From the Shadows
by speedingcars2012
Summary: Jasmin flees France to escape a cruel foster father.  She thinks she's running away from her past when she travels to England; little does she know, she's running straight into it.   Set in Harry's third year at Hogwarts.
1. Chapter 1

**Jasmin flees France to escape a cruel foster father. She thinks she's running away from her past when she travels to England; little does she know, she's running straight into it. **

**Is Severus Snape really her father? What happened to her mother? And can she befriend the mysterious Harry Potter?**

**Set in Harry's 3rd year at Hogwarts. Romance not until much later. I try to start out with the original characters, but as the story progresses I will develop them according to my plot. Review please!**

**I'll generally update my story once a week, on Mondays probably. **

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry stood peacefully in the night sky, it's corridors silent and its beds empty.

For now.

After the customary beginning-of-school staff meeting, the professors had gathered in the Great Hall to enjoy their last quiet meal together. The students would be arriving tomorrow and another school year would begin.

BANG! BANG! _BOOM!_

Dumbledore looked up from his treacle tart, appearing mildly puzzled.

A moment later, Filch's voice could be heard, among with three other muffled voices. After what sounded like a scuffle, three figures appeared in the Great Hall, with Filch bobbing nervously behind them.

"They said they was Aurors," Filch said nervously, glaring at the visitors suspiciously, "An' that they have someone for Professor Snape."

A man with greasy, lank, black hair, sallow skin, a hooked nose, and impenetrable black eyes stood up, his expression grim. "If this is a matter concerning Ministry Aurors, I think it best if we conduct it in my office-"

"On the contrary, Severus," Dumbledore said cheerfully, "We can do it in my office. The five of us would not fit comfortably in your office at all." Snape glowered at Dumbledore before briefly inclining his head in assent. Dumbledore smiled and departed from the staff table with Snape.

The rest of the staff stared at the three visitors as they turned to follow Dumbledore. There were two men, one quite young and one middle-aged, both on either side of a young girl, who looked extremely displeased, to say the least. If the professors at the staff table had been closer, they would have noticed that the two wizards on either side of the girl were both gripping her upper arms quite tightly and that the older wizard has his wand at the ready in his hand. If Snape and Dumbledore thought this was odd, neither expressed it.

* * *

"Well, now that we are all settled in," Dumbledore said brightly, "I think we can begin. Kingsley, perhaps you could explain."

The girl was absolutely glowering at the man called Kingsley. When they'd entered the headmaster's office, she'd made a brief break for freedom and he had grabbed her around the middle and hauled her physically back into Dumbledore's office. He'd even blocked all of her attempts to overpower him. She was sure he had studied Muggle martial arts.

Kingsley smiled. "I think it would be best for Parker to explain, since he is who we owe Jasmin's presence to."

There was a moment of silence, then Parker's eyes widened. He glanced around nervously, clearly startled at being asked to explain something to Dumbledore. Snape rolled his eyes.

"Jasmin, here," Parker said nervously, ignoring the girl glowering at him, "Has finally been- um, _apprehended_ by the Ministry."

"As if," Jas muttered.

Parker continued, ignoring her. "She has been flouting the law for quite some time. However, we recently made quite a significant discovery. We weren't sure what to do with someone so young who continually violated the laws- she is only twelve, you understand-"

"For the last time, it's Jas, _not_ Jasmin!" the girl interrupted.

"-so we could hardly toss her in Azkaban for a month to straighten her out," Parker continued, clearly used to these interruptions by now. "So we thought we'd find a magical guardian for her."

Snape was giving the young man called Parker a very dubious look. "Excuse me," he said finally, clearly unable to restrain himself any longer, "But what could _I _possibly have to do with _any_ of this, Parker?"

Parker looked even more nervous at Snape's icy tone. He looked at Kingsley pleadingly, who only smiled encouragingly at him. "Um, well, we made a discovery, like I said," Parker said, avoiding looking at Snape. "I mean, we found her father. Her _real _father."

There was a small silence in the room as everyone present worked out the implications of what Parker had just said.

"WHAT?" Jas howled, jumping up. "You didn't tell me that!"

Snape had gotten up too, but not as quickly. He did not raise his voice, but everyone heard what he said perfectly clearly. "I hope you understand the gravity of what you are _suggesting_, Mr. Parker," Snape growled.

"I-I do," Parker stuttered. He had hated Potions while he was a Hogwarts student and the Potions Master still had the power to intimidate him, even though he had left Hogwarts years ago. "It's just a simple test- and we're quite sure-"

"Oh, well, by _all_ means, if the Ministry of Magic is _quite sure_, than all of my fears have been put to rest," Snape snarled, his voice heavy with sarcasm.

"Severus," Dumbledore said mildly.

Jas stared at the greasy-haired man appraisingly.

Snape sat down, although his glare did not leave Parker.

"I think," Dumbledore continued, "That a test is in order, am I correct?"

Parker nodded, tearing his eyes away from Snape and looking at Dumbledore.

"Exactly what sort of test?" Jas demanded, slowly inching away from the four wizards who had been talking about her as if she was not in the room. It was a habit adults had that annoyed her to no end.

Dumbledore smiled at Jas. "Muggles would call it a paternity test," he said, rather thoughtfully.

"And what would wizards call it?" Jas asked, still carefully edging closer to the door. She was almost close enough to make it if she timed her run carefully-

"Jasmin, get back here _now_," Kingsley barked.

She stopped and glared at him. "Jas. Jas. Jas. Jas. Jas. Jas. _Jas!"_

He rolled his eyes. "You realize the door is locked and, without your wand, you cannot unlock it?"

She scowled.

"Now sit down," he ordered.

She wondered briefly if he was bluffing about the door. It wouldn't matter anyway, she decided; now that everyone in the room was staring at her she wouldn't have much a chance of escaping, at any rate. She stalked back over to her seat and sat down with an exasperated huff.

"Wizards consider the test a blood spell, which makes it very dangerous magic, but it is safe if wielded by the right witch or wizard," Dumbledore continued, as if there had been no interruption.

Jas frowned. This did not seem right. She would much rather rely on a Muggle paternity test than some abstract spell that no one was supposed to use anyway. "I thought blood spells were dark magic?" she inquired cautiously.

"They generally are. But the particular blood spell I am going to use does not qualify as dark magic, given the manner in which I choose to use it," Dumbledore explained.

Parker looked uncomfortable. "Dumbledore- I actually meant that we were going to do a Muggle paternity test- I've got the needles and everything-"

Snape looked affronted. "A _Muggle_ paternity test?" he hissed. "Is there no end to the indignity?"

Parker flushed. "Well, the Ministry doesn't strictly approve of any other test after the Highman incident-"

"Well," Dumbledore interjected gently, "If I were to perform a Blood Binding Spell on both Severus and young Jasmin and the results were clear, would everyone in this room find the evidence sufficient?"

Everyone slowly nodded. Snape looked pleased. He clearly did not think any such test would prove him to be _anyone's _father.

"Excuse me," an irritated voice snapped from a chair off to the side, "But _I _haven't agreed. What exactly is a Blood Binding Spell and what do you mean, if the evidence is sufficient?"

Everyone turned their attention back to the irritable girl who was now slumped down in her chair so far that she was scowling blackly at her knees.

"Ah," Dumbledore said graciously, "Forgive me, Jasmin. I forgot you may not know. A Blood Binding Spell is a spell that takes blood from outside a human's body and binds and purifies the blood so that it may be injected back into the body. Obviously, injecting ones blood back into their body is very dangerous magic indeed, and we will not be doing any of _that._ However, one of the Blood Binding Spell's side effects is that if two pools of blood are mixed together in such a way that is impure than the blood will refuse to mix- in other words, the spell will not contaminate pure blood with contaminated blood."

Jas stared blankly at Dumbledore. _What?_

"So," Dumbledore continued, "It was discovered hundreds of years ago, before the advent of Blood Replenishing Potions, that the relatives of an injured witch or wizard could aid that witch or wizard by supplying them with blood through use of the Blood Binding Spell and other spells that would force the bound blood back into the body. Only immediate family could be of any use, however, since the Blood Binding Spell would refuse to recognize family members any further removed. It was originally thought that the spell only worked with pureblood witches and wizards, but that was just part of the prejudice of the time. It actually works with immediate family members of any magical family. Incidentally, it does not work well with Muggles, even if they are a witch's or wizard's immediate family."

Jas frowned. That didn't make sense at _all._

"So, when I perform the Blood Binding Spell, if Severus is not your father, than the blood should refuse to mix. If he is, then the blood should bind without a problem." Dumbledore said this brightly, as if all was well and he was not discussing mixing people's blood.

"But- but," Jas spluttered, "How does that _work?_ Immediate family members' blood types aren't the _same_- at least not necessarily- that doesn't make the slightest bit of sense-"

"Oh, but it does, Jasmin," Dumbledore reassured her. "You see, in magic, the ancient ties of love and family are very strong. It is perhaps the most ancient magic that exists. So for a wizard to give his immediate family member his own blood is a powerful restorative indeed. A very _dangerous_ act, I might add, but powerful."

Jas blinked. Perhaps it was best to not to try to understand. "So we just need to see that the blood doesn't mix and then I can leave?" she asked uncertainly.

"Well, if the blood doesn't mix, then you are most certainly not Severus' daughter, in which case I cannot see why you would stay," Dumbledore replied cheerfully.

Jas frowned. That was not really an answer.

"If we could get on with this, please," Snape drawled, sounding bored.

Jas glanced at the man warily. On the off chance that the dunderheads at the Ministry had actually gotten something right for once in their lives, she did not foresee a very happy existence with this man. He did not seem to want a daughter. She fervently hoped that the blood did not mix.

"Very well, Severus," Dumbledore agreed.

The wizard stood up and walked towards Jasmin. She straightened in her seat as the realization hit her-

"_Where_ exactly is my blood going to come from?" Jas asked in alarm. And, she added silently, how much was he planning on using?

Snape snorted. "I thought that would be obvious, even to a foolish child like you."

"Call me that again," Jas snarled, scowling blackly at him. Snape looked at her and a disturbed expression crossed his face. Jas smirked, wondering if she'd successfully scared him.

For anyone who knew the slightest bit about Severus Snape, it would be obvious that this was not the case.

"My, my," Dumbledore said thoughtfully, "Quite the temper you've got there, Jasmin. Now, I will be taking blood from your arm with my wand tip. I will not take very much at all, I assure you. Taking large amounts of blood from a witch or wizard is generally not a wise idea. It sometimes rebels."

Jas was left to ponder these words as Dumbledore crouched down near her and carefully lowered his wand to her forearm that he had grasped in his hand. Jas flinched as a sharp, white-hot pain hit her arm and watched, somewhat horrified, somewhat intrigued, as a strand of oddly glimmering substance arose from her arm. It changed so rapidly she was not certain it could even be blood. At first it was purple, then red, then it glowed faintly silver. Dumbledore hung it carefully in the air and crossed the room to do the same to Snape. Jas stared at the silvery thread suspended in air in disbelief. She was certain it was not good that witches and wizards could move their own blood around like this.

Snape's expression did not so much as flicker as Dumbledore withdrew the blood from his forearm, and Jas thought it unfair that he had known it was going to hurt and hadn't even warned her. And _he _wassupposed to be her father? Or perhaps, she thought worriedly, he was just stoic enough to not be bothered by pain.

She could not decide which possibility was more worrying.

Dumbledore hovered the two strands of blood in the air next to each other and then carefully raised his wand and murmured a long string of Latin that Jas could neither understand nor hear. She wondered vaguely how she would ever know if this was just some horrible set up. If the test turned out to be true, she resolved to get a Muggle paternity test as soon as time allowed for it. And as soon as she could get close enough to her supposed-father to yank a greasy strand out of his head.

Dumbledore stopped murmuring and the two strands of blood suddenly both glowed a bright golden color. Jas was wondering if they would perhaps go through the entire color palette before they did anything useful, when the two strands leapt together to form one glowing, golden mass.

Oh, _no_, Jas thought.

There was silence in the room. Snape opened his mouth several times, but no words came out. Jas was glaring at the mass in the center of the room, thinking rather petulantly that it seemed unlikely that she would ever get her blood back _now._

"Well," Dumbledore finally said, breaking the silence, "It seems the results are clear. From here, I think it would be prudent to resume the conversation we were having about Jasmin and her troubles with the Ministry."

Oh, _no,_ Jas thought again.

"Er- right," Parker agreed, casting a nervous look at Snape, who was, like Jas, staring blankly at the glowing golden mass, though Jas suspected his thoughts were very different from hers.

"I was saying that we wanted a guardian for her so someone would be responsible for what she has done-"

This seemed to snap Snape out of his daze. "Excuse me," he said, his voice every bit as icy as it had been before, although he looked quite a bit paler than he had been, "I will _not_ be held responsible for something that- this girl- did whilst she was not even in my care."

Parker coughed. "I, um, understand your complaint, sir, but she _is_ your daughter and she has caused a considerable amount of property damage-"

It wasn't _that_ bad, honestly, Jas thought exasperatedly.

Snape was glaring at Parker in a very unpleasant way. "If she does any further property damage from henceforth, you may hold me personally responsible, although I can assure you-" his eyes found Jas' and glared into them threateningly, "-that no such thing will _ever_ happen again."

Jas slunk down in her seat again. She rather preferred it when adults ignored her, now that she thought about it.

"Well…" Parker hemmed, quailing under Snape's glare, "I think that will be sufficient…"

Jas could not suppress a certain feeling of awe for a man who could intimidate another so easily. Even if it was Parker, who she thought was a bit of a wet weed. The back of her mind pointed out that she would likely be the next subject of his intimidation and very, very soon.

She ignored it.

Kingsley suddenly rose. "You're a man of your word, Snape," Kingsley said easily, "So if we can expect no more trouble out of Jasmin, then the past is the past."

Parker looked slightly betrayed, although he slowly rose to join Kingsley.

"Parker will send you the Ministry reports on what exactly happened," Kingsley continued, "We should probably be going. It was good seeing you, Dumbledore, Snape." The wizards nodded at each other respectfully.

Kingsley turned to Jas. "Behave yourself," he said firmly. She scowled at him and rolled her eyes, still annoyed with him for dragging her back into Dumbledore's office. To her alarm, she noticed that her supposed-father was glaring at her rather malevolently. She slunk down lower in her seat. She would need to get that Muggle paternity test as soon as possible.

"Jasmin," an icy voice said, "It is customary to respond _politely_ to an adult when he or she speaks to you."

Jas turned her head to glare at her supposed-father over the armrest of her chair. Was he _really_ trying to order her around in his first sixty seconds of fatherhood? Where had he been the last twelve years? She would show _him._

With perhaps a great deal more bravado than she actually felt, Jas said indifferently, "Make me."

Kingsley coughed. "Ah, well, we'll be going now." Kingsley quickly left, followed by Parker, who hurried behind him after throwing a frightened glance over his shoulder. Jas was so distracted by their hasty exit she did not immediately notice what they were alarmed by. She swiveled her head around and jumped more than a little when she turned to see a very angry wizard towering over her chair. Jas vaguely wondered how he moved so silently.

"_Come,_" he hissed, his face taut and his voice dangerously low.

Jas was beginning to think that perhaps this man was not someone she should have crossed. She threw a pleading look at Dumbledore, who only smiled benevolently at her. "I'm sure you two have- ah, much to talk about," he said cheerfully, as if her supposed-father was not about to murder her, "So I will see you tomorrow, Jasmin."

She wondered if there would be anything _left_ of her by tomorrow.

Jas got up slowly and followed her supposed-father out of the room, down the swivel staircase, through many corridors, and down yet even more staircases, which, Jas noted with no little alarm, seemed to randomly move. She filed this fact away for later examination and hurried to keep up with her supposed-father, who was walking so quickly that Jas had to jog to keep up. She briefly considered running away, then dismissed the idea. She would likely die of hunger before she found an exit.

She was growing more and more alarmed as every minute passed, particularly when she realized that he was leading her deeper into the dungeons of the castle. Was he going to lock her up? Chain her up by her ankles? She tried in vain to remember the Muggle literature she'd read on castle dungeons-

"In," Snape snarled, wrenching open a door.

Jas hurried inside. Anger seemed to render him monosyllabic. Perhaps that was a good thing. He could not yell at her this way.

She walked into the room and stopped short, looking about in alarm. There were jars of a variety of terrifying-looking things, from what looked like pickled eyes to something that looked horrifyingly like a human brain.

"_Sit," _a cold voice breathed from behind her and Jas jumped as the door to the room slammed shut.

She was now wondering how the Ministry could just leave her in the care of a man without even bothering to ask her if she was okay with it- what if he was a serial killer? She vaguely remembered Kingsley saying something about her supposed-father being as good as his word. Did that mean they _knew_ each other? Was this some plot?

She would definitely have to get that paternity test as soon as possible.

Jas sat down in the only other chair in the room besides the one behind the large, black desk. It was hard, uncomfortable, and incredibly difficult to slouch in comfortably.

Her supposed-father did not sit. He chose to tower over her, glaring at her. She rather thought this method of intimidation was a bit too obvious but, to her dismay, it was effective. She suspected if this man glared at a teapot for long enough, the teapot would simply melt away. Despite her best attempts, she found herself slouching, even though it put a horrible crick in her neck, just to put distance between herself and the man's glare. She stared steadily at the air in front of her, willing herself to not fidget.

"So," the man said icily. "There is no denying that you are my daughter."

Well, when he put it like _that_, it rather sounded like he wished there was a way to deny it. She would like to inform him that she was none too pleased to discover that _he _was her father; that, in fact, she was still not entirely convinced of this and would not be until she got the results back from the Muggle paternity test she was planning on performing. As soon as she got a bit of his hair. Which she was beginning to think would be about as easy to steal as a dragon's egg.

She may never definitively find out who her father was.

"And you have henceforth been turned over to _my_ care. I expect the papers and other official documents will arrive shortly. Undoubtedly, the Ministry did not expect this matter to be resolved so quickly, so the Aurors were not fully prepared. Which brings me to my next point: you are clearly not in the habit of respecting authority."

Jas couldn't really argue with that one. She stayed silent.

"This will _have_ to change. It will change whether you want it to or not. I am your father, I will soon be your professor, and you _will_ respect and obey me. You _will_ respect and obey all authority figures unless I expressly tell you not to. You are a child, and a foolish one at that. You have absolutely _no_ right to make any decisions more important than what you will be eating for breakfast."

She was beginning to think she would not get along very well with her supposed-father. She hoped she would not be anywhere near him when he received the papers from the Ministry detailing all of her illegal activity. And that was just what the Ministry had _noticed_…

"And perhaps even that is a decision you are not qualified to make," her supposed-father added derisively, eyeing her in an unpleasant way. Jas scowled at him, glancing up at his face for the first time. She was small for her age. What did he expect for an orphan? It was difficult to remain well-fed. Especially if you happened to be an orphan with criminalist tendencies. Jas studied her supposed-father's face, wondering if they bore any resemblance to each other. It was hard to tell, really, without knowing what her mother looked like. Jas had long, jet-black, wavy hair, a dark complexion, and dark eyes. People often asked her if she was Italian, Mexican, Indian, Native American, or perhaps Hawaiian, since her complexion was so dark. Jas now realized she had the opportunity to discover which it was.

"Who was my mum? What ethnicity was she?" Jas asked eagerly. It had always bothered her that she had not been able to answer this question. She'd begun simply lying and telling everyone that she was Hawaiian, since it sounded cool, and because saying that she didn't know what she was tended to garner strange looks.

Her supposed-father- perhaps she would just nickname him SF; it would, after all, be quite awkward to call him dad- looked a bit taken aback. He apparently had more to add to his scary you-will-obey speech. "Your mother," he began, than paused.

A thought struck her. "You do know who she _is_, don't you?" Jas demanded. She now wondered how in the name of Merlin's beard the Aurors had ever figured out that Snape was her father. No one _else_ had been able to figure that out in the last twelve years- including Snape, apparently. Although Jas was still not convinced of this fact, even if Snape was.

Of course, she'd lived with Muggles for the first ten years of her life, and you couldn't really expect them to work out things like that. They didn't have creepy Blood Binding Spells, after all.

SF turned his glare on full blaze once again. "Of course I _know_ who your mother is," he snapped, looking annoyed. "Her name was Andrea Scott. I believe she was from Italian descent, although she was born in England and married an Englishman-"

"Married an Englishman? As in, not _you_?" Jas interrupted, enticed by the drama. She was slightly disappointed to not be Hawaiian, but being Italian was nearly as good.

"No, not me," SF snapped, looking even more annoyed.

"Is she alive too?" Jas asked hopefully. Perhaps she could convince everyone she'd be better off with her mother, if she so happened to be alive.

"She's dead," SF said shortly. Jas suppressed a sigh of disappointment. She had briefly entertained the idea that her mother might still be alive, since her father was. She had always been told her parents had died in a house fire from which she'd been the only survivor. After learning of the magical world when she was ten, she had assumed her parents were both Muggles- after all, what sort of witch or wizard died in a house fire? Was her mother a Muggle? Where had Snape been?

"How did I wind up with the Muggles, then? Was Mum a Muggle? Why didn't you know about me?" Jas was gazing at SF rather suspiciously. Her mother must have either really hated SF or she'd had a very good reason for not wanting him to know he'd gotten her pregnant. Although, Jas reasoned, perhaps she had thought Jas was someone else's kid. Or maybe, she thought with horror, she had wanted to _pretend_ Jas was someone else's kid- what if her mother had already married this Englishman when SF came along?

SF was glaring at her in an unnerving way. Jas felt the urge to defend herself. "I'm allowed to be curious about my mum, aren't I?" she demanded.

SF continued glowering at her. "No, your mother was not a Muggle. I am sure your mother took the course of action that she thought best for everyone involved. Now, if we can return to the original subject. Do you understand what I have told you?"

_About my mum? Perfectly. I'm not allowed to know, _Jas thought bitterly. She glared into the dark, tunnels of SF's eyes and noted that hers were precisely the same as his. They even had the same flecks of hazel in them that hers did. This was more unnerving than the glare he was delivering her. She comforted herself with the thought that it was very possible that she had her mother's eyes; Italians had very dark eyes, after all.

"No, you have my eyes," SF said, rather smugly.

Jas jumped and looked at him incredulously. She was certain she hadn't spoken aloud. Could SF read _minds? _That would make plotting against him considerably more difficult. She made a mental note to immediately research all methods of reading minds. It really was a pity she'd been raised by Muggles; she was ignorant of far too much in the wizarding world.

Of course, maybe she was being ridiculous. There was really no evidence to indicate that SF could read minds. They'd been staring into each other's eyes and he'd said that she had his eyes. Was that really so surprising? Granted, the no he had placed before the statement was a bit odd, given her own train of thoughts, but it could most likely be explained in a manner that did not involve a magical method of mind reading.

Jas felt a bit better after this.

"I asked you a question," SF growled.

Jas blinked, momentarily lost. A question about what? Oh. "Yes, I understand," she said. That much was true. She _understood_ the words he had spoken, she wasn't stupid. But would she obey him and any other authority figure he deemed appropriate?

Over her cold, dead body.

Jas looked up at the man hovering over her and asked, "Do you have any food? I'm starving." She hoped he did not use food as a form of punishment. Some of her foster parents had done that- although she had secretly suspected they just wanted to save money on the grocery bill- and she had just come up with ingenuous, usually illegal, and often immoral ways to obtain food. And, in the end, she had just wound up scrawny.

SF sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and his forefinger. Jas watched with interest. That was usually something adults did when they were becoming exasperated with someone they viewed as being beneath them; namely, children. Jas was _not _a child, but she did find it interesting that she had already exasperated SF.

Still pinching the bridge of his nose, he flicked his wrist and a plate of sandwiches along with a jug of pumpkin juice appeared on his desk. Jas had to admit, she was impressed. He had undoubtedly summoned it from somewhere but, still, that was wandless and non-verbal magic. As she happily pulled her chair closer to his desk so she could eat properly, she revisited her previous hypothesis that she should perhaps not cross this man. She then reasoned that this would simply be impossible, since he was- or maybe was, pending the results of her future Muggle paternity test- her father and had the annoying idea that he could he could set all sorts of rules for her. This idea would have to be stamped out of him. Jas simply did not abide by the rules. Not that it really mattered. All of the adults she had dealt with in her life had either not been bothered to enforce any rules on her or had tried to enforce so many that they had never effectively enforced any rules.

The sandwiches were _good. _They were filled with layers of ham, turkey, and chicken and stuffed full with vegetables. Jas decided Hogwarts must have house elves- well, of _course_ they had house elves. She had remembered reading somewhere that there was only one wizarding school that operated entirely without house elves and that was in America somewhere.

"Have you been fasting for months?" Snape said dryly from the other side of the desk. He had sat down and begun reading while she ate.

Jas frowned at him. "I'm hungry," she said shortly. Was that not _obvious_? Jas wondered if this man deliberately tried to provoke people. A few moments ago he had sneered at her for being too thin. Now he was complaining that she was eating too much?

"Yes, well, all hunger aside, there is no need to eat so quickly. You'll choke or be sick or both and I don't care to deal with the aftermath," SF informed her coldly.

Jas coughed. She'd only eaten two sandwiches… in about three minutes. "It's only been a week, actually," she informed him brusquely, picking up her third sandwich. He really was a kind, loving, caring sort of father. She was lucky to have landed him, really, what so many other children- not that she was a child- her age wouldn't _give_ to have-

"A week of what?" SF said irritably, not looking up from his book.

"A week of fasting," Jas replied. She laid down the remains of her third sandwich. She was not queasy, as SF had predicted, but tired. She wondered with vague alarm of where she would be sleeping in this gigantic castle. "Er, where am I going to be sleeping?" she asked awkwardly. If SF said 'my bed', she would run away screaming.

"In my quarters, for now, I expect," SF said slowly, sounding reluctant at the very idea. "Dumbledore has added on a room for you." He turned a Death Glare on Jas. "But you are _not_, under _any_ circumstances, to reveal the location of my quarters to _anyone._ Not students, not staff, not outsiders with no connections to Hogwarts- _no one._ Do you understand?"

"Er- yes," Jas said hesitantly, now wondering if _she_ wanted to go into his quarters if they were that incredibly private. She could always sleep in the corridor, after all, even thought it was quite drafty. A few blankets and well-placed warming charms and she would be comfortable enough. Although she certainly wouldn't be able to _sleep_- not in a corridor in the dungeons of a magical castle. But that was besides the point.

She yawned widely. Jas wondered if SF could be persuaded to put his book away before she fell asleep in this uncomfortable chair that was bound to give her a crick in her neck from even thinking about sleeping in it. After a few moments, SF was still reading. Jas contemplated her options. She could simply curl up on the floor- she suspected it would be more comfortable than her chair- and let him take that as a subtle hint that she was tired. Of course, Jas had the inkling that SF would not approve of this. Normally, this would only encourage her, but since she was tired, she did not feel like provoking an argument.

"So can you show me where my bed is then?" Jas asked. "I'm tired."

SF slowly looked up from his book. He looked annoyed. Jas glared back at him. She wondered if she would actually have a bed or if her room was just a broom closet with chains on the wall. SF rolled his eyes for inexplicable reasons and got up, his chair scraping the stones of the dungeon floor. He turned to face the south wall of his office, raised his wand, and muttered a string of words Jas could not understand. Interestingly, the blank stone wall began to shift and move, until a door was revealed. Snape tapped the door with his wand and muttered some more. Finally, the door opened and he gestured for Jas to follow.

She did, her mouth hanging open slightly. _What_ did he keep in here that he needed to have so many spells on the place? Dragon's eggs? A unicorn? The Sorcerer's Stone? Jas watched somewhat regretfully as the stones fell back into place and then the door slammed shut. She was now trapped with SF. She could only pray that her brain wouldn't become a part of his collection of pickled specimens.

They were standing in a spacious sitting room, with almost every wall of the room lined with bookshelves that held hundreds of books. There was a hearth on the north side of the room, with a few couches and chairs scattered around it. A small table with four chairs around it stood on the other side of the room. Jas had expected there to be more stone floor in SF's quarters but, instead, they were standing on warm, cozy green carpet. She looked at it curiously. SF did not seem to be a warm, cozy person- what was he doing with that carpet?

SF strode through the sitting room, his cloak billowing behind him. Jas hurried after him, still looking around curiously. SF led her into a corridor off the sitting room. There was a door at the end of the corridor, a door on the right and a door on the left.

SF jerked his head to the left. "That's my room, that's your room," he said, jerking his head to the right. "There are bathrooms connected to each."

"What's the other door?" Jas asked curiously.

SF delivered her another unpleasant glare. "That is my Potions workroom. You may _never_ enter that room. Trust me, I will find out if you try to do so in my absence."

Jas trusted him on this. She had just seen the man cast more spells on the entrance to his chambers than she had on her vault in Gringotts. She wandered down the corridor and gasped the handle to the door on the right.

She yelped and jumped back rubbing her hand. The door had just _shocked_ her. She glared accusingly at SF. This had to be his doing.

SF was glowering as well, although his anger did not seem focused on her, for a change. He strode over to the door, opened it, then slammed it shut. "Your room," he said through clenched teeth, "Is on the left, actually."

Jas considered mentioning that if he was going to put traps on the entrances to his rooms, the least he could do is tell her the right room to go into. She decided not to. He looked far too annoyed and she really did want to get to sleep at some point. She crossed the narrow corridor and warily put her hand on the doorknob to the other door. To her relief, it did not attack her. She opened it and stepped in.

She stared. The room was decorated in creams and golds, with a large four-poster bed situated in the middle and dark mahogany furniture scattered around the room. Jas was impressed. Not only did she have her own room, it was undeniably _elegant._ She promptly decided that Dumbledore was an ally worth having. Jas took off her shoes and fell asleep almost immediately after her head touched the pillow.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for the reviews :)**

Jas awoke the next morning feeling warm and cozy. She didn't open her eyes, relishing the feeling. Her stomach rumbled slightly, reminding her she hadn't eaten in a week. She frowned. She would need to find some food soon; she was steadily getting weaker from not eating. Reluctantly, she opened her eyes and sat up.

She blinked at her surroundings. Sunlight streamed through a window next to her bed, partially illuminating the soft bed she lay in. The events of yesterday came back to her- getting caught by the Ministry, getting dragged off to Hogwarts, and finding out Snape was supposedly her father. Several thoughts crowded her brain at once. Jas stared at the window. She could have sworn Snape had led her into the dungeons of the castle- what was a window doing in her room? And what was she going to do today? Where was Snape?

And, most importantly, where was breakfast?

Jas slipped out of her bed and padded into the bathroom connected to her bedroom to wash up. Once she had showered and brushed her teeth, she slipped back into her clothes from yesterday. She now noticed her clothes appeared to have been cleaned and repaired; they lacked the stains and rips they had previously had on them. She was torn between wondering when this had happened and mulishly thinking to herself that she could have easily done so herself if she had her wand.

The door to her room opened silently and she wandered out into the main room of SF's quarters. She found him sitting at the table in the room, reading the _Daily Prophet_ and drinking coffee. "Er- hi," she said, wondering if he would have to come with her to get breakfast. She decided he probably would, since she certainly did not remember the way back to the Great Hall. She needed a map of this impossibly large castle, although she could not even imagine how she would begin to draw one, with all the moving staircases.

SF set his copy of the _Daily Prophet_ aside slowly and looked up at her. To her great alarm, she saw he was wearing a very malevolent expression. What had she done?

"Jasmin," he said, fixing a Death Glare on her, "I was just planning on waking you."

Had she slept in too long? Couldn't he have just woken her earlier? "Um, would I not wake up earlier?" Jas asked, puzzled and grasping at possible answers to his controlled fury.

"Oh, no. I did not attempt to awake you earlier. It is undoubtedly a good thing you did not wake up earlier, in fact. Your health would undoubtedly have been in considerable danger." SF said this all very calmly and he smiled at her unpleasantly. Jas felt rather ill. She thought she would have preferred him if he was shouting at her. At least she would have known what was _wrong._

"So- is everything okay?" Jas asked nervously. Breakfast seemed out of the question at this point.

"Absolutely not," SF said coolly, "But that is of little matter. You will need to eat breakfast so we can go to Diagon Alley. There is much to do today."

_What_ was going on? "Okay," Jas said hesitantly. At least breakfast had been mentioned. Although he had also said that things were most definitely not okay.

"Sit," SF said shortly, gesturing to a chair across from him at the table. Jas crossed the room and sat. He flicked his wrist and a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast appeared in front of her, with pancakes on the side. She smiled in spite of herself. Whatever she'd done to annoy SF this time- had she somehow annoyed him by sleeping?- he still was still clearly not choosing to take it out on her by starving her. Although a part of her did worry how exactly he planned on taking it on her instead. Her foster parents had always been wary of what they did to her- not feeding her, smacking her a bit, and locking her up were the most popular. They could only beat her if it didn't leave marks, because child abuse laws were thankfully strict these days. She considered that a wizard could easily beat her then vanish the traces of the beating. She hoped this was not SF's plan. She did not fancy getting in a tussle with him- he looked physically strong and had already demonstrated his magical strength.

As Jas was polishing off her pancakes, her eyes fell upon something that made her gape in horror. How had she _forgotten?_

Lying underneath a thick book on the table, the Ministry seal on an envelope was just visible. Did the envelope contain the records Kingsley had promised to send? It would certainly explain SF's bad mood. Although, she thought rather petulantly, Kingsley _had_ said that SF wouldn't have to pay for the property damage-

"Either chew or swallow. Leaving your mouth hanging open with food in it is most unattractive," SF remarked, not even looking up from the newspaper that he had continued reading while she ate. "And yes, that envelope does contain the records Kingsley spoke of. We _will_ be discussing those, don't worry. It will have to wait until later, however."

_How_ does he do that? Jas thought, glaring at him. She really needed to use a library so she could research this mind reading business. That is, if SF didn't murder her for her past misdeeds. She found she suddenly didn't have an appetite. SF seemed quite angry. The more she was around this man, the more she found herself thinking she shouldn't cross him.

But she still couldn't see how she would avoid crossing him with all these ridiculous ideas he had about her following orders.

"Lovely," Jas finally croaked, ignoring the prickle of fear his words had brought her. "Shall we go to Diagon Alley? What are we getting there, anyway?"

SF didn't answer; he simply pushed back his chair and stood up. He glanced at her briefly before turning and walking to the door and opening it to reveal a stone wall. Jas trailed after him forlornly. He clearly did not calm down easily. She wondered what precisely the records said.

_I'm sure I'll find out soon enough,_ she thought gloomily.

* * *

Diagon Alley was bustling with people, even early in the morning. SF had sidealong Apparated her directly in front of Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. She was impressed again. Many witches and wizards didn't even feel comfortable enough Apparating themselves; only powerful witches and wizards could perform sidealong Apparation. SF opened the door for her and herded her inside the shop where a collected-looking witch in immaculate robes was straightening out a rack of dress robes.

"Madam Malkin," SF said, inclining his head slightly.

"Hello, Professor Snape," Madam Malkin said with a polite smile. "A student to be fitted?"

"Yes," SF said brusquely. "Can you get her fitted for a school uniform? She'll need the usual set. I should be back shortly." Jas frowned. SF clearly didn't care to broadcast that he had a daughter. Was she _that_ bad or was he, like Jas, not entirely certain that she was his daughter?

"Of course, Professor," Madam Malkin agreed. She helped Jas up onto a dais in front of a mirror, where another witch began taking her measurements. It wasn't until she heard the front door of the shop slam that she realized SF had left. Jas stood with her arms held out, feeling rather downcast. Did SF _have_ to be so mean? She hadn't even known he could be her father when she did all those things the Ministry was complaining about. And most of them had simply been _necessary_ for survival. Or she had thought so, anyway.

The witch taking her measurements pulled a black robe off one of the many racks in the store and offered it to Jas. She pulled it over her head and the witch promptly began fitting the robe to Jas, instructing her to hold out her arms once more. The witch bustled around her, using her wand to let out fabric here and take in some there. Jas wondered where SF had gone. Hopefully somewhere that would improve his mood. After what seemed like ages, the witch finally told her she could put her arms down.

Just as Madam Malkin was packaging her robes and a single black witch's hat, SF reentered the shop. He still appeared to be in a foul mood. "How much?" he asked Madam Malkin, pulling a pouch out of his pocket.

He quickly counted out the amount Madam Malkin named and they left the shop. As they were leaving, a thought struck Jas. SF had to _pay_ for her things. Without help. This was unusual to her. All of her foster parents received a stipend from the government for housing a foster child. It wasn't much, she knew, which had often led to the fondness many of her foster parents had developed for depriving her of food as a manner of punishment. But even a small stipend was better than nothing. She felt rather guilty for costing SF money.

"Er- thanks for- for the robes," Jas stuttered nervously as SF held the door open for her.

SF gave her an odd look but did not respond. She was beginning to wonder if she could judge how angry he was based on how much, or rather, how little, he said. Last night he had been quite angry with her for her cheek and had been rather monosyllabic. Today, he was livid with her and was more or less mute.

The number of people in Diagon Alley seemed only to have increased while Jas had been in the shop. Witches and wizards pressed around SF and her on all sides, some hurrying past, others standing off to the side trying to sell things. SF grabbed Jas' wrist and swept through the crowd with her in tow.

Jas was not sure how he did it, but by some manner or another SF parted the crowd apparently effortlessly. At first, she had been annoyed when he took her wrist- she did not need for someone to hold her hand; she was not a child, after all- but since SF walked so quickly and the crowd seemed to want to instantly close over the gap SF made in it, it was very difficult to follow him, so she became less resentful of the manner in which he was towing her around.

They stopped by the Apothecary to get potion ingredients, a cauldron, a set of scales, a few crystal vials, and dragonhide gloves; they went into Flourish and Blotts to buy a variety of books, parchment, quills, and ink; they went into a strange little shop with no sign to buy Jas a telescope, a school bag, and a trunk to put all of her things in. SF paused outside Eyelopes Owl Emporium and Magical Menagerie. He turned to Jas and glared at her inexplicably.

She blinked. Her arms were still sore from carrying around all of her things. She had finally been able to put them into the trunk SF had bought for her. It was quite a nice trunk; Muggles would not notice it and it even followed her around when she asked it to so she didn't have to drag it about. Fidgeting under his glare, she wondered what she could have possibly done to annoy him now. They hadn't said a word to each other since they'd left Madam Malkin's and Jas was beginning to feel rather lonely. She'd been- to put it mildly- horrified at how much money he was spending on her. She knew it was only the necessities, but she was simply not accustomed to people spending their money on her. Even at Beauxbatons, she'd received a stipend from the school for 'fiscally-challenged students.' Actually, the term was 'under-privileged children' but Jas _hated_ that term. It made her sound like a charity case. Which, incidentally, she was, but there was no need to go around sounding so _pathetic._

After glaring at her for a moment longer, SF grabbed her wrist once more and wrenched her along. She was beginning to grow faintly annoyed at him, even though her mixture of gratitude, abash, and horror at him buying so many things for her was keeping her anger at bay. She hoped they did not have much more to do. She was getting hungry and rather tired. Jas hated shopping, perhaps because she had never had any money of her own to shop with.

Although there had been the money she'd illegally created, but she'd used that strictly for emergency food purposes.

SF took her into a more secluded alley and just as she was about to step closer to the pile of rags laying at the end of the alley- she had a sneaking suspicion it was a human- she felt the familiar sensation of being sucked through a tube as SF sidealong Apparated her away. If she had been able to sigh while enduring the unpleasant feeling of Apparation, she would have sighed. He couldn't have even _warned_ me? she thought irritably. Git.

* * *

She landed a bit unsteadily on a road in Hogsmeade. She supposed this meant their shopping trip was over. Slightly alarmed, she looked around and was relieved to see her trunk sitting near her on the ground. She'd forgotten about it for a moment. SF must have Apparated it along with him. She told the trunk to follow her and turned around to see SF striding down the road, already a good ten feet ahead of her.

Jas ground her teeth in frustration. Part of her was tempted to run off and escape from SF. In fact, she'd been contemplating it the entire time they'd been in Diagon Alley. However, while she'd been on her own, she'd been spectacularly underfed and in generally bad health. Whatever food or amenities she had managed to obtain for herself she had obtained by using less than legal methods. Living on her own had been incredibly difficult, not to mention uncomfortable. It would be wholly unwise to attempt to do so again so soon after her first attempt. Not only would she probably be forced to fall back into her habit of breaking the law- and who knew what the Ministry would do with her this time around- but she would probably eventually be caught and dragged back before SF, and she didn't even want to think about how angry he would be then.

So she trudged after SF reluctantly, privately thinking the man could do with a lesson on manners. Jas had often been accused of being dry, sarcastic, and even mean- but she was beginning to think SF could easily beat her out in all three categories. She frowned. It occurred to her he could easily outduel her and possibly even outsmart her as well. As far as she could tell, she had no obvious advantages over this man. She might be able to physically overpower him if he was not familiar with Muggle self-defense techniques- and most wizards weren't- but being able to physically overpower a wizard who easily did wandless and non-verbal spells was rather useless.

Had she finally met her match in the form of her own father? Or rather, the man that was supposed to be her father?

Jas scowled to herself. SF had to have a weakness. She would find it and exploit it, if necessary. And it was almost always necessary. No matter what adults said, they rarely had the 'best interests' of others in their hearts. In Jas' experience, people usually only had one person's best interests in mind- their own. So far, SF had not done anything to indicate that he would harm Jas, but, after long conditioning, Jas did not trust adults, particularly ones that were entrusted with her care. She'd had enough lousy foster parents to know that trusting people was almost always a mistake.

SF glanced over his shoulder, than turned fully around, looking annoyed. "Hurry up!" he snapped.

Jas' scowl deepened. "My trunk can't run, you know," she said sarcastically.

SF's eyes narrowed. "Watch your tone. And if you need help with your trunk, all you need to do is ask." Throwing her another nasty look, he flicked his wand at the trunk that was tottering after Jas, causing the trunk to fly up in the air and float besides SF.

Jas sighed. Yes, she _needed_ to get a lock of SF's hair. He had to have a brush somewhere. In his bathroom? But what excuse could she use to get inside his bathroom? She had her own bathroom, after all.

She jogged after SF as he swept through the corridors of Hogwarts. Furthermore, what could she do about the impending school year? Jas could not quite envision herself in school. Whether Muggle or magical, school had always been somewhat of a disaster for her. She'd infuriated her Muggle teachers by being truant most of the year- although Jas would staunchly tell anyone who'd listen (no one) that her absences had been _necessary_- never paying attention in class- if the classes hadn't been so _dull_, she might have paid more attention- and having the unfortunate tendency to get into scraps with other children. All of these things would be enough to drive any teacher mad, but worse was the fact that Jas managed to do incredibly well in her classes without ever turning in a scrap of homework. She was required to take all of the tests the other children had to and she always excelled on the exams, much to her teachers bewilderment. They had grown so suspicious of her cheating in some manner that they had begun purposely making her make up tests far more difficult than the other children's original tests. It did not matter, though; Jas excelled anyway. There was a simple explanation for Jas' success: she loved learning and particularly reading. She might be truant from school quite often but she almost always spent that time in the public library, carefully hiding from adults that would demand to know what she was doing out of school.

Jas learned early on the world was not a friendly place. She had been shifted around from foster home to group home to foster home for as long as she could remember. Many a caseworker had given up on her, labeling her a 'behavioral problem,' and some had even gone as far to threaten her with putting her in a detention center- as if they could do that, honestly, did adults think she was _that_ dim?- if she did not straighten out. Luckily, she had escaped the clutches of the system before anyone could attempt to make good on those threats.

For a very long time, Jas had thought, like everyone else, that there was something wrong with her; that she was inherently undesirable to others for some reason that she could not fathom. It was true that odd things happened around her all the time, but she never intentionally caused any of those things to come to pass; not that anyone believed her when she told them so. No, all of her foster parents eventually came to blame the young girl for the oddities that plagued their household from the moment she had set foot in it: when she was upset, their windows would shatter; when she was crying, the pot on the stove would go up in flames; when she was about to receive a spanking, the belt, boot, switch or other instrument of punishment would simply vanish; when she was deprived of a meal, the rest of the family's meal tasted rotten. Some families had all but thrown her out of their house, declaring to her caseworker that Jas was possessed. Of course, her caseworkers simply assumed Jas was a terrible mischief-maker, particularly as she kept getting thrown out of more and more families' homes.

When she had turned ten and the professor from Beauxbatons had finally given her an explanation for all of the strange occurrences around her, she had been elated. Of course, in the first place, she had been thrilled with the idea of being a witch. In the second place, however, she was happy because she now felt that perhaps she might be able to find a real home, now that she could explain all of her strange behavior to her foster families. Now everyone might not think her such a troublesome child.

Unfortunately, the professor had promptly squashed that hope. He had told Jas in no uncertain terms that she was not to tell her foster families about anything to do with the magical world. The professor told her that, in the event that she was adopted, then she could reveal that she was a witch to her guardians, but she could not tell her foster parents, since they changed so often. The wizarding world did its best to hide from Muggles and thus it would simply not be prudent to tell every pair of Muggles that looked after Jas about the magical world. Instead, the professor just gave the cover story that Jas had been accepted into a special program at a prestigious boarding school. That hadn't been so difficult for everyone to believe, since Jas had always been undeniably bright. It had been harder for everyone to believe when she wasn't kicked out after the first two weeks.

No, it had taken Jas an entire two years before she was kicked out of Beauxbatons. Jas sighed inwardly. It was a pity, too; after everything she'd done to conform and obey school rules, she was kicked out over the summer.

SF wordlessly hovered her trunk into her room, then indicated that she should come sit down at the table in the sitting room. Uh-oh, she thought, it must be time to 'talk.'

Jas sat down in the same chair she'd used that morning, feeling strangely apprehensive. Stop it, she mentally berated herself, he's just another guardian. He can't hurt you. Well, not too badly, she corrected herself, and even if he does hurt you badly then you can just run away.

She was certainly familiar with running away. She just hoped it would not be necessary. Jas did not care to be out on the streets again so soon.

"So," SF said fixing Jas with a penetrating stare.

She restrained herself from saying, So what? But just barely. Instead, she waited for him to finish.

"It seems you have quite the… checkered past," he continued slowly, lacing his fingers together on the table.

Jas frowned. She did not think her past was 'checkered,' she'd simply made a few mistakes, he made it sound as if she were a murderer or something-

"Being an international criminal is indeed a checkered past," SF interrupted her thoughts, making her jump nervously.

Jas decided then that SF must definitely be able to read minds. She would need to research that immediately. Surely there was a way to stop it?

"You were expelled from Beauxbatons for the illegal use of underage magic. In some manner, you wound up in Britain, where you were reprimanded several times for the illegal use of underage magic…. Along with other things. But never mind that for now. I would like to know why you used magic illegally in the first place. And do not lie; you will most certainly regret it."

Jas shivered slightly. Why did he bother asking if he could read minds? Although she most definitely did not appreciate the idea of someone poking around in her head, she almost wished he would do just that, if he was even capable of reading minds and it was not just something Jas had imagined. She did not want to talk about what had caused her expulsion from Beauxbatons and subsequent departure from France.

On the other hand, she was somewhat surprised he had even bothered asking her what had caused her to use underage magic. She was certain it said what had happened in the Ministry's file. Or, at least, it was the Ministry's version of Beauxbaton's version of events. Was he implying he wanted her own version of events?

"Jasmin?" SF prompted.

Jas bit her lip. She might be able to get away with saying she didn't want to talk about it, but then again, she rather doubted it. SF did not strike her as the lenient type. She sighed.

"The summer after my second year at Beauxbatons," Jas began hesitantly, "I was sent to a new foster family. My other foster family had- er, replaced me, since I was gone so much during the year so I wasn't really any use for- well, I was sent to a new family."

"This new foster family," she muttered. "The Prousts. Mr. Proust- he was- he was a _jerk_," Jas said vehemently. "They were Catholics – all uppity and acting like they were doing me a favor by fostering me- well, everyone does that, but more so than usual- and Mr. Proust was just…" Jas' voice trailed off. She was miserable. She had no wish to repeat this to anyone. She was ashamed and yet defiant about what she'd done at the same time.

"Just what?" SF prodded.

Jas crossed her arms, feeling mutinous. "I don't want to talk about it," she said, sticking her bottom lip out defiantly.

"Jasmin." SF's voice was sharp. "I don't recall giving you a choice. You broke the _law_. I am giving you the choice to give me your version of events, but believe me when I tell you that I will find out exactly what transpired to get you expelled. After that, I may not be so kind as to give you the choice to give me your version of events," he added nastily.

She scratched her head. She was hungry and tired and she did not feel like being berated by this man. Jas chanced another glance at him and noticed he looked very nearly angry. She flinched involuntarily, feeling nervous. She slunk down in her chair, then straightened back up, annoyed with herself for her fear of this man.

"Mr. Proust always found something wrong with me," she explained finally. "And he'd try to- to- to force me to change, I guess. I'd only been there two weeks when he said I was being too-" Jas struggled for words, not recalling precisely what the idiot man had said, and not particularly caring to, "lippy, I guess. Anyway, he decided to punish me as usual and his belt vanished- I didn't _mean_ to, I don't even know how to banish things, which is what I guess I did- but anyway, he got really mad- he's a Muggle, he doesn't even know about witches- and he said I was stealing and had to be punished and since I stole his belt then he'd have to use his hands and that I'd regret stealing his belt…" Jas' voice trailed off and she shuddered slightly. "He kept _hitting_ me- it wasn't fair. I didn't really even do anything, nothing to deserve _that_, anyway. The more he hit me, the more accidental magic I did- I shattered a window and I turned his hair red, to name a few. I ran away from him to my room and got my wand out and when he followed me in there, yelling about how running would only make it worse- I hexed him." Jas finished and drew her knees up to her chest, feeling rather like someone had just extracted venom from her soul. It was harder than she'd expected, telling someone about the dreadful family she'd lived with.

SF sighed. "What did you hex him with?" he asked finally.

"Body bind curse," Jas admitted, wincing as she said it.

"Why did you run?" SF asked, frowning at her. "If you had stayed to _explain_, there is a very good chance you may have been exonerated of all offenses. Child abuse is not an issue taken lightly by most governments."

Jas snorted, staying silent. How could she explain to him? How could she tell him that she'd already known no one would believe her- no one _ever_ did. She was forever the troublesome child, the behavioral problem, just a _problem_. It would be an adult's word against hers and she would have surely lost.

"Well?" SF demanded, clearly expecting an answer.

Jas ground her teeth irritably. SF was such a lovable man. "No one ever believes me," she snapped. "So I left before they could snap my wand and send me back to another foster family, only defenseless this time."

"I see," SF said slowly. "I must summon Dumbledore," he said, getting up abruptly.

"What?" Jas exclaimed, horrified. "No! I don't want to- to-"

"To ensure that justice is served?" SF snapped. He rounded on Jas, his eyes flashing. "Has it ever occurred to you that you may not be the only child that has suffered by this man's hand? He must be dealt with. Since it is not on your record, I assume you did not report him."

Jas slowly shook her head, feeling slightly ill. SF turned away, throwing Floo Powder into the hearth's flames and shouting, "Dumbledore!"

Jas gazed stared blankly ahead. It honestly had not occurred to her what harm she may have done by choosing to run away than stay. Of course, she'd never dealt with a foster family quite like the Prousts. Beyond reproach on the outside, but twisted and ugly on the inside. What if Mr. Proust did make it a habit to abuse his foster children? Jas knew they'd had foster children before her. She grimaced. She really _should_ have considered things more carefully before she ran off, she supposed.

Although, Jas reasoned, just about any other child besides her would probably get on with the Prousts better. With her unfortunate habit of getting into to trouble and her even more unfortunate habit of having magic burst out of her when she was especially upset, she generally did not have a peaceful existence in foster homes. Particularly ones that worked so hard to maintain a picturesque façade.

Jas didn't even notice the quiet conversation Dumbledore and SF had in the Floo. Had she done the wrong thing? Jas was very used to breaking rules, even breaking the law, but she tried to uphold some semblance of morals. She did not see herself as a bad person; at least, she very much wanted to avoid becoming one. Should she have reported Mr. Proust? She should have tried, perhaps_._ Why hadn't she even tried?

She already knew the answer to that. How could she have reported him? She remembered that night. The letter she'd gotten over her expulsion- Mrs. Proust's fury at discovering her husband keeled over in Jas' room- there was no way she would ever be able to convince anyone of her innocence. As far as foster homes went, all of her caseworkers thought she was a behavioral problem and would be much more willing to believe Mr. Proust over her. Particularly since, for all intents and purposes, it appeared as if she'd knocked the man out. Although she supposed the Magical Reversal Squad could have done something about that. It didn't change the fact that it was highly unlikely anyone would believe her.

As far as Beauxbatons went, she might be able to get them to believe her, but she didn't know how. And even if she did, she wasn't sure it would have changed anything. The law in France plainly stated that attacks on Muggles were strictly prohibited unless the witch or wizard or another witch or wizard or a Muggle was in mortal danger. No one had been in mortal danger. But then what could she have _done?_ Just sat there and hoped for the best? Used her magic to fly out the window? Jas didn't know how to fly and her stipend from Beauxbatons hadn't been enough to buy a broomstick. And she was not entirely sure that the statute on using magic in front of Muggles was any more lenient that the statute on using magic against Muggles.

Jas started slightly when SF pulled up a chair next to her. "It is done," the tall man said dismissively. "Dumbledore is Flooing the Family Services in the French Ministry as we speak. They should be able to sort things out."

Jas wondered exactly how wizards and witches dealt with this sort of thing. She was certain they would not take her word for it that Mr. Proust was a git.

"The French aurors will keep an eye on Mr. Proust for as long as necessary," SF continued.

Jas considered this dubiously. She did not entirely trust adults – especially those associated with the government that had betrayed her – to do things properly.

"It is out of our hands," SF said firmly. "You have done all you can."

"Did I?" Jas asked, feeling unexplainably anxious. What if someone had already gotten hurt?

SF studied Jas closely. "You are worried," he stated.

Jas was silent. It was a statement, not a question.

SF sighed and leaned back in his chair. "You should not concern yourself with the proceedings, Jasmin. This is an adult matter and the adults will take care of it," he said firmly.

Like they took such great care of me? she thought grumpily.

SF sighed again. "You are twelve years old. The actions of an adult are not your responsibility."

"_You _made it sound like they certainly were," she retorted.

SF looked at her sharply. "And I just said they are not. Believe me or do not, but please do not dwell on this."

Jas did not respond; she was trying to remember if she had ever heard SF say 'please.'

"Furthermore, I believe it is time you started putting more faith in the capabilities of adults. You will have to, in fact, since I will not tolerate these ridiculous notions you have about doing everything yourself."

Jas cast him a dubious look at this.

"You see what happens when you leave everything to yourself," he added, frowning at her.

She frowned. That was uncalled for. She hadn't _meant_ to do any harm. Was that what SF was getting at? She had to admit, it would be nice to have someone to go to for advice, like a moral compass of sorts. The only trouble with this is that Jas would need to trust that person and she currently did not trust anyone. She certainly would not trust SF to give her sound moral advice; he seemed like he was an assassin in a previous life.

She rose from her seat. She would rather be alone at the moment. Jas could not quite sort out her feelings and that was always such an unpleasant feeling.

"Where are you going?" SF inquired as she rose.

Jas ground her teeth. "My room," she replied evenly. She was not sure why his question annoyed her, but it did. Must he know where she was at all times?

"Very well," SF replied noncommittally.


	3. Chapter 3

**This chapter might be a bit slow, but things will pick up, I promise. R&R please!**

Jas jumped when she heard someone knocking at her door. She was unaccustomed to having her own room and thus was unaccustomed to people knocking on the door. "Come in," she called out nervously. It was almost surely SF.

As predicted, SF stepped through the doorway. He walked into her room and perched awkwardly on the side of her bed, while apparently surveying her room. He shook his head and muttered, "Dumbledore."

Jas was momentarily confused until she realized he must be commenting on the decoration. It was true, the palette did not really match the rest of SF's quarters, but Jas found the décor quite pleasing.

"Jasmin, how are you feeling?" SF inquired, fixing his piercing gaze on her.

Jas was momentarily thrown off guard. She was certainly not accustomed to people inquiring after her well-being. "Er, I'm fine," Jas replied nervously. She'd only been in her room for about an hour, what did SF imagine had changed?

SF nodded. "Good. You should eat," he added, flicking his wand, causing a tray of food to appear. "It will remain warm. We will continue our conversation about your past later. The other students should be here shortly. You will take part in the Sorting ceremony and from that point on, you will be living in your House's dormitory."

"What's the Sorting ceremony? And what do you mean, my house?" Jas asked, confused.

"There are four houses at Hogwarts- Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Gryffindor. You will be sorted into one of those houses in the sorting ceremony. You will eat, sleep, have classes with, and relax with your house. _Hogwarts, A History_ has more about the history of the house system, if you're interested," SF explained patiently.

Jas' brow furrowed. "But how are we sorted? Is it random?"

SF snorted. "Of course it's not random. You will see how it is done very soon." He stood. "I'm going to attend to a few things in my office. I will come get you shortly before the ceremony begins. You should put your school robes on." With that, SF swept through the door and out of her room.

Jas sighed and pulled her tray of food closer to her, knowing she would not get any more information out of SF. He certainly was not the chatty type. Of course, neither was Jas, so perhaps she should be grateful. On the other hand, she also wished SF was capable of displaying some emotion besides anger. When he was not cold and indifferent, he was angry. Jas scowled, reminding herself that it didn't _matter_ if he was a sourpuss- what should she care? He was just another guardian who had no real desire to care for her. Nothing had changed.

In fact, she thought, viciously stabbing a piece of kidney pie, it was probably better this way. Not all of Jas' foster parents had been cruel to her- in fact, when she was younger, many of her foster parents were exploring the possibility of adopting after fostering a child. They had been the ones who had been most kind to her and treated her like their family.

Until she made all their vases explode or caused the curtains to go up in flames, anyway.

It was far worse to grow attached to someone only to later be rejected. It had been difficult for her to understand as a child; she did not understand why she was always 'returned' like a faulty Christmas present. After all, she never did anything to intentionally anger her foster parents.

But she'd found it didn't matter; that no matter what she did, odd things just happened around her and she inevitably was blamed for it. Perhaps that was one of the many reasons that she'd ceased caring about following the rules and pleasing adults- it was simply _impossible_ to please adults. And no matter how she tried to explain to them that she hadn't done anything wrong, they never believed her.

So it was far better to have some sort of understanding of SF. Knowing that he did not want her allowed her to quash any hopeful notions she may inadvertently get about him ever doing more than simply tolerating her. In fact, SF barely tolerated her, as far as she could tell. Jas sighed inwardly. Perhaps it was an effect of living on her own for a few months, but she could not help but still wish that she had _someone_ who cared about her- someone to worry about her well-being and who might feel at least a flicker of sorrow if she died. Jas frowned at her lunch. She should stop thinking about these things. It was rather depressing and very nearly self-pity, which Jas strictly despised.

* * *

Jas thought she definitely needed to eat more. SF had told her that she was going to be a third-year and she was blending in perfectly with the first-years. For that matter, there were a few first-year boys who were even taller than her.

The other students had given her odd looks when she was dropped off by SF, but they had appeared too queasy to care too much about the strange new arrival. Jas again wondered what the sorting ceremony consisted of. Perhaps she should have looked over _Hogwarts, A History_ after all. Were they supposed to take some sort of test in order to be sorted?

A tall, thin woman with her black hair secured tightly in a bun entered the room they were in. "Now, form a line," the rather severe-looking woman said, "And follow me." Jas fell into a line behind a blonde girl in pigtails. She tried to push away her feelings of unease as the line of students slowly wound out of the small room.

They entered the Great Hall that Jas vaguely remembered being dragged through the previous day. It looked far more magnificent than it had that night, however. The ceiling depicted a dark blue sky with thousands of stars glittering in it. There were hundreds of candles floating near five long tables in the Great Hall: four tables for each house, Jas assumed, and the head table for the staff. Jas tried to ignore the hundreds of students that were staring at the newcomers. For once, she was rather glad she blended in with the first-years.

Her attention was drawn to a raggedy hat sitting on a stool in the center of the Great Hall, between the student and staff tables. To Jas' alarm, the hat broke out in song:

_A thousand years or more ago,_

_When I was newly sewn,_

_There lived four wizards of renown,_

_Whose names are still well known:_

_Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor,_

_Fair Ravenclaw, from glen,_

_Sweet Hufflepuff, from valley broad,_

_Shrewd Slytherin, from fen._

_They shared a wish, a hope, a dream,_

_They hatched a daring plan,_

_To educate young sorcerers_

_Thus Hogwarts School began._

_Now each of these four founders_

_Formed their own house, for each_

_Did value different virtues_

_In the ones they had to teach._

_By Gryffindor, the bravest were_

_Prized far beyond the rest;_

_For Ravenclaw, the cleverest_

_Would always be the best;_

_For Hufflepuff, hard workers were_

_Most worthy of admission;_

_And power-hungry Slytherin_

_Loved those of great ambition._

_While still alive they did divide_

_Their favorites from the throng,_

_Yet how to pick the worthy ones_

_When they were dead and gone?_

'_Twas Gryffindor who found the way,_

_He whipped me off his head_

_The founders put some brains in me_

_So I could choose instead!_

_Now slip me snug about your ears,_

_I've never yet been wrong,_

_I'll have a look inside your mind_

_And tell you where you belong!_

_(J.K. Rowling's sorting hat song)_

Jas blinked. A _hat_ was going to sort them into their houses? And, if she had just heard correctly, it could see into their _minds?_

She was beginning to think her thoughts would never be safe again, now that she had joined the magical world. SF could read minds, as far as she could tell, and she was sure this meant Dumbledore could as well, and now she found out an old _hat_ could read her mind too?

Good grief.

"Archer, Everett!" the severe-looking witch called out.

A boy with mousy brown hair stumbled forward, sat on the stool, and hesitantly put the Sorting hat on his head. A moment passed, then:

"HUFFLEPUFF!" the hat shouted.

The table with a banner of a badger overhead exploded with cheers and the boy ran off to his new house.

Jas waited patiently while the witch called all of the first-years to the Sorting hat in alphabetical order. She wondered which house she would be in. She did not feel particularly brave or ambitious and she was not sure if she was a hard worker or not. She also wasn't entirely sure if she was 'clever,' either- she liked to learn new things, did that count? Jas chewed her bottom lip nervously. Perhaps the Sorting hat would simply say she didn't belong in _any_ house.

Jas smirked to herself. That was just the sort of thing that would happen to her. SF would probably be angry and convinced she'd sabotaged herself on purpose. She wondered what house he'd been in. Had he even gone to Hogwarts when he was younger? Jas frowned, trying to remember how many schools of magic there were in Britain. She didn't think there was more than two or three.

A sudden thought struck her. What was her _name?_ She was expecting them to use her old name- Jasmin Yates. But SF had told her that her mother's name was Andrea Scott and his name was Severus Snape, so how had her last name wound up being Yates?

Jas suppressed a sigh. There was too much she didn't know. It was annoying. Even more annoying, the one person who might be able to shed some light on the subject was infuriatingly tight-lipped about it.

"Snape, Jasmin!"

Jas jumped. _Snape? _ She walked towards the stool, forcing herself not to shoot a glare at the table where she knew SF was sitting. She hadn't agreed to take his last name! She scowled as a murmuring broke out amongst the house tables. _Of course_, she thought irritably, _I have the same surname as their professor! Maybe I can pass him off as a distant cousin_, she thought uncharitably.

Still scowling, she jumped on the stool and jammed the hat over her head. It was larger than she expected and fell halfway down her forehead. Jas almost fell off the stool when a voice spoke murmured in her ear.

"Hm, well this is interesting. Plenty of cunning and survival instincts, you wouldn't make a bad Slytherin. Then again, you're very intelligent… yes, very clever indeed. You would make an excellent Ravenclaw. You've certainly got plenty of nerve and a good heart, though. Gryffindor would be glad to have you. Hm… so where should I put you?"

_So you've only eliminated one house?_ Jas thought rather dubiously. She hoped the hat hurried up. She did not fancy sitting here forever.

The hat chuckled in her ear. "Yes, you are a difficult one, aren't you?"

_You could always put me with the smart people,_ Jas suggested.

"Ravenclaw, eh?" the hat murmured. "Yes, perhaps. Only… I think you would make a better Gryffindor."

_You just said I'd make an excellent Ravenclaw! _Jas thought indignantly. Had the hat looked deeper and decided that she was dumb?

"Yes, yes, but Gryffindors can be just as smart as Ravenclaws. Yes…. I see it now."

Then, suddenly: "GRYFFINDOR!" the hat shouted, abruptly ending their conversation.

Jas took off the hat and wandered over to the table that was cheering, feeling a bit miffed. She was quite certain a talking hat had just read her mind and then proceeded to insult her intelligence. She was not altogether pleased.

She sat down with her new housemates, who were looking her with more curiosity then she would have liked.

"So you're a Snape?" a tall, lanky red-headed boy asked her.

Jas shot him a derisive glance. "I thought that would have been obvious," she informed him primly, still scowling slightly from her conversation with the Sorting hat.

The red-head turned to his neighbor and grinned. "Yep, definitely a Snape."

Jas now scowled at him openly. "And what's _that_ supposed to mean?" she demanded.

The red-head grinned at her. "Nothing… just you remind me a bit of Professor Snape. Are you two related? Snape's not exactly a common name."

A girl with blonde hair sitting across from Jas chimed in. "Is he like your uncle or something?" she asked, apparently intrigued.

Jas sighed. "I can neither confirm nor deny allegations of being related to Professor Snape," she informed them in a mock professional tone, hoping to avoid further inquiry.

This evoked laughter from two more red-headed boys sitting a distance away from Jas. She gazed at them with interest. They looked to be twins.

"Why didn't you come across the lake with the rest of us?" a first-year girl asked Jas curiously.

This attracted the other student's attention. "You didn't take the boats across the lake?" an upperclassman asked, puzzled. "Why not?"

Jas stared at her empty plate, wishing the meal would be served so the students had something to focus on besides her. "I was already at the castle," Jas said, deciding to stay as close to the truth as she could.

Apparently, this was not a good idea. "You were already _at_ Hogwarts?" another student repeated disbelievingly. "As a first-year? Before term started?"

"Well, I'm not a first-year. I'm a third-year," Jas said, figuring that particular truth would come out anyway when she started attending third-year classes.

"How are you a third-year? Did you _skip_ two years? I didn't know that was possible!" A bushy-haired girl exclaimed, looking affronted.

"Er, no. I went to Beauxbatons for two years," Jas explained.

"So you're a transfer student," someone said.

"I guess," Jas said, again wishing the meal would start. Everyone was staring at her like she was some fascinating specimen on display. "I suppose this means you guys don't get many transfer students?" she joked half-heartedly.

"I can't remember ever getting any," the blonde girl sitting across the table said.

Jas sighed. Lovely. She would be the center of attention for some time, then.

""Welcome!" Dumbledore boomed, silencing the students, to Jas' relief. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I have a few things to say to you all, and as one of them is very serious, I think it best to get it out of the way before you become befuddled by our excellent feast. As you will all be aware of their search of the Hogwarts Express, our school is presently playing host to some of the dementors of Azkaban who are here on Ministry of Magic Business.""

(excerpt taken from J.K. Rowlings book Harry Potter and he Prisoner of Azkaban)

Jas gaped at the headmaster. _Dementors?_ She shuddered. In France, witches and wizards looked down upon the use of dementors as prison guards. British and American prisons employed the creatures and the French often claimed the dementors would turn on innocent witches and wizards at the first opportunity. How could a school have them running around, on Ministry of Magic business or not? They were _dangerous._

Jas blinked, realizing she wasn't paying attention to Dumbledore's speech. He'd just introduced two new professors. Not that it mattered to her- all of them were new, as far as she was concerned.

"Well, I think that's everything of importance," Dumbledore said. "Let the feast begin!"

Jas gaped again as great platters of food appeared in the middle of the table. There was just about every sort of food- English food, that is- that one could imagine. Although she did miss French food somewhat, Jas had learned to be grateful for _any_ type of food and she took a bit of everything to try.

"So why did you transfer from Beauxbatons?" the blonde girl across the table from Jas resumed their conversation.

Jas chewed her piece of roast beef slowly, trying to come up with an acceptable answer. "I live in England now," she stated evasively.

The blonde girl's eyes narrowed but she shrugged. "I'm sure you'll like it here. Hogwarts is great."

Jas snuck a glance up at the staff table. SF was glaring unpleasantly at a man in patched robes with an unshaven face. She snorted in spite of herself. She somehow doubted she would be able to enjoy herself with SF hovering around her. With any luck, he'd forget about her and ignore her.

"Your English is very good. I would've thought you'd have an accent," a brown-haired boy sitting nearby remarked while he served himself a heaping pile of mashed potatoes.

"I think- I mean, I was taught both French and English as baby," Jas explained. Actually, she was not sure that was true. For as long as she could remember, she had known both French and English, although she had always preferred English. She didn't know who had taught her English or French. She could only assume her parents- or whoever she'd been living with as a baby- had spoken both languages fluently. The group homes and schools she attended tended to be bilingual, so her preferring English had never been an issue.

As the feast was drawing to a close –along with Jas' eyes- Dumbledore bid them a goodnight and Jas followed the Gryffindor prefects towards the common room. She was too sleepy to pay attention to the moving staircases, the chattering portraits, and even the ghost that floated alongside the Gryffindors as they made their way to the common room. Jas absently thought she would definitely need a map. Perhaps she could use the portraits as landmarks. She'd never seen so many enchanted portraits in one place, but Hogwarts was very, very old, after all.

She was led into the girl's dormitory for third-years, where she discovered that her trunk had already been placed at the foot of one of the beds. She supposed SF had been eager to be rid of her. Jas sighed, changed into her pajamas, and collapsed on her bed before her dorm mates had time to interrogate her.

* * *

Jas opened her eyes groggily. One of the drapes on her bed had come loose and a stray ray of sunshine was glaring directly into her eyes. Groaning, she tried to jerk the drapes shut, only to have all of the drapes fall off and land in a pile of dust on the floor.

"Urgh!" Jas complained. She rolled out of bed, rubbing her eyes. She considered the drapes on the floor. She didn't have her wand and she didn't fancy trying to fix the drapes by hand. Jas glanced up to see that all of her dorm mates' beds were empty.

Jas blinked, then jumped out of her bed. She grabbed one of her Hogwarts' uniforms out of her wardrobe and hastily dressed, looking around frantically to see what time it was- how had she managed to forget an alarm clock? The bed next to hers had a clock, but instead of numbers, it had what looked like planets floating around the edges. According to this clock, it was Mercury, whatever time that was. With a frustrated huff, Jas ran a brush through her hair, threw all of her books in her bag, and sprinted out through the deserted Gryffindor common room and out the portrait of the Fat Lady that she vaguely remembered from last night.

Ignoring the Fat Lady's yells to slow down, Jas sprinted down the corridor and sped down the nearest staircase. She really did not care to be late on her first day of classes. After speeding down four staircases and running through innumerable corridors, Jas was forced to come to a halt, panting. _Where_ was she?

She spied a portrait of a portly man wearing what looked like riding pants and a frilly white shirt. He was talking animatedly to a woman wearing a hideous-looking peacock hat.

"Um, excuse me?" Jas asked nervously.

The man and woman turned to Jas. "Hello!" the man boomed in a deep voice. "How may I be of assistance, young lady? Are you in distress? You look quite peaky."

"Er- no- I'm lost," Jas explained, looking around nervously. She was not accustomed to talking to portraits and was not entirely sure this was a good idea. She was vaguely aware with the magical process of creating a portrait, but she wasn't sure if they were reliable. "Could you tell me where the Great Hall is?"

"Of course," the man said graciously. "It's a Monday on an odd-numbered year, isn't it?"

"Uh- yes," Jas said, wondering what that had to do with anything.

"Then you just need to take this staircase down, turn right until you reach the statue of Lopgok the Leery, then go left, take the first staircase down, then…."

Five minutes later, the portrait was still talking and Jas was staring at him with a slightly glazed look. "Sir," she finally interrupted, "I'm sorry to stop you, but I've just remembered how to get there. Thank you so much for your assistance!" With that, she turned and sped away.

She may never find her way around this damned castle.


	4. Chapter 4

Half an hour and seven conversations with different portraits later, Jas finally found the Great Hall. She suspected she would never be able to find the Gryffindor common room again, but that was of little matter at that point. She made it into the Great Hall only to discover that all of the tables were empty.

"Great," Jas muttered. She had no idea where her first class was; in fact, she didn't even know which class she had first. She assumed schedules had been handed out over breakfast. Jas growled lightly. What should she do? She supposed she could just wait until lunch started and find a professor then. Of course, by then she would have missed half of her classes. Jas frowned to herself, biting her lip.

She _could_ try to find SF and ask him for help, but that thought was entirely unpleasant. He had her wand, though- when had he been planning on giving that to her? While she stood in the Great Hall, trying to decide what to do, a voice barked from behind her.

"Ha! Wandering around during class, are you? We'll see about this!"

Jas whirled around to see a haggard-looking man with long hair that was thinning on top and a stooped back. He was currently smiling unpleasantly at her, exposing his yellow, crooked teeth. "Um- excuse me- I'm lost-" Jas began.

The man narrowed his eyes at her. "Lost, eh? Why aren't you with the rest of the first-years? The prefects have been helping them."

"I'm not a first-year," Jas explained impatiently to the man, "I'm a transfer student."

The man guffawed loudly. "A _transfer student?_ Hogwarts hasn't had one for years. You can come with me, girl, and we'll see about lying to school officials-"

"I'm not lying!" Jas exclaimed angrily. "You can ask Professor Snape! It's true! And I need to get to class, so if you could just-"

"Professor Snape, you say?" the man suddenly asked, his smile growing. "I'll take you to him, no problem. Snape doesn't hold with you students' misbehavior- yes, let's go ask Snape about you, the _transfer student._"

Jas rolled her eyes. "You're an idiot," she said flatly.

"Disrespect as well! Come _along,_ miss, we will see about this!" the man roared, grabbing Jas' arm and yanking her along with him.

The man, who was surprisingly strong given his hunched appearance, dragged her through the dungeon corridors. Jas had to resist the temptation to give him a few swift kicks so she could escape and get to class.

She was sure SF would frown upon her attacking a faculty member. Though she couldn't see _why_ Dumbledore would ever hire anyone like this man- he was terribly unpleasant.

For that matter, she couldn't see why he'd hire SF, but then, SF and Dumbledore seemed familiar with one another.

Her captor stopped outside of a door in the dungeons and knocked sharply on it. Jas frowned. This was not SF's office, it was further in the dungeons.

The door swung open a crack to reveal SF, looking annoyed. "Argus, what is it-" he stopped abruptly when he noticed Jas.

SF exhaled slowly, looking even more annoyed. He turned his back on Jas and the man he'd called Argus. "Stop brewing. I will be back momentarily. If _anyone_ so much as touches their potions while I am gone, I will make sure that person is on the train back to King's Cross tomorrow morning."

Jas blinked, realizing he must be teaching. He was Potions Master? She hadn't known. SF strode out of the classroom, closing the door behind him.

"What is it?" he snapped at the stooped man.

"This girl here says she's a transfer student, sir," the man began eagerly, his voice oily.

"She is," SF said coldly, glaring at the other man. "Is _that_ why you interrupted my class, Argus?"

Jas enjoyed the look of surprise on the man's face, but only briefly. "No- she was wandering around the castle during classes-"

SF rounded on Jas. "You didn't go to class?" he demanded, his lips forming a tight line. "_Why?_"

"It was an accident!" Jas explained hastily. SF seemed to be in a very bad mood. "I didn't have an alarm clock and I overslept. Then I couldn't find the Great Hall- I asked directions from portraits, but it still took ages- then when I got to the Great Hall, everyone was gone and I don't know my class schedule. Then _Argus_ over there," Jas shot him a contemptuous look, "dragged me off to you because he thought I was lying about being a transfer student."

"You may call him Mr. Filch, Jasmin, and nothing else," SF snapped, "One point from Gryffindor. I will-"

"She insulted me too, Professor. Terribly cheeky, that one," Filch said plaintively, glaring at Jas. "She could use with a good stringing up by the ankles," he added smiling toothily.

Jas glared at him. What a git.

"Insulted you?" SF repeated, putting one of his fingers to his temple.

"Yes, she called me an 'idiot,' the cheeky little-"

"Enough. You can serve detention with Mr. Filch for your cheek, Jasmin. Now-"

"_What?"_ Jas exclaimed. "He was rude to me first! And he-"

"Silence!" SF snarled, his dark eyes glinting malevolently. "You would do well to remember to respect authority figures. Now, Mr. Filch, I trust you will watch my classroom while I am gone- just make sure the dunderheads don't touch anything."

"Of course, sir," Filch said, smiling evilly at Jas. She scowled blackly at him. What a slimy git. SF was too. How could he give her detention; he didn't even know what had happened!

"Come," SF snapped, striding away down the corridor. Jas hurried after him. "Sn- er, Professor Snape, _why_ did you give me detention? That git- Mr. Filch- was being stupid!" Jas exclaimed, annoyed with SF.

SF didn't slow down. "It doesn't matter how _you_, a mere child, perceives a staff member's behavior- you will respect their authority. If you believe them to be out of line, you may issue a complaint with your Head of House."

"But-"

"There is nothing to discuss!" SF snapped. "You are a _child _and you will obey and respect the adults around you! If you insist on rebelling, then you will find yourself in a very unpleasant situation indeed."

Jas stopped hurrying after him, her temper flaring. "Sor-_ry_," she said sarcastically, "But while my _father_ was out gallivanting around England, I was busy learning that _adults_ are never trustworthy. So you'll have to excuse me, _sir,_ if I find it difficult to just accept orders like a bloody idiot!" Her voice rose steadily until she was very nearly shouting after him.

SF whirled around and stormed down the corridor towards her. Jas forgot the bravery she had possessed moments earlier at the sight of his furious expression. She unconsciously backed away from him until her back hit the stone wall behind her. SF stood inches from her, his lips drawn into a snarl, and he raised his hand-

Instinct took over and Jas flinched and dodged around him, feeling panicked. In her haste to escape him, she tripped over a suit of armor's protruding metal boot. She spun around on her back hastily backing away from SF, who was pursuing her.

SF abruptly stopped. Jas stopped backing away, her panic slowly ebbing away to be replaced with embarrassment. Why had she run away from him? He wasn't going to hurt her. Was he? Jas frowned, chewing her bottom lip nervously. She didn't know much about him. Then she shook herself. SF might be a lot of things, but he certainly wasn't stupid. If he was going to be violent, he wouldn't do it in a corridor of the school he taught at.

"Jasmin," SF said very calmly and slowly, as if speaking to a frightened animal, "I am not going to hurt you."

"I know," Jas mumbled, feeling her face flush. Realizing she looked ridiculous sprawled out in the corridor, she scrambled to her feet.

"Are you hurt?" SF inquired, in the same calm, level voice.

Jas shook her head, avoiding his gaze.

SF eyed her narrowly for a few moments, then slowly stepped towards her. "We're going to McGonagall's class so we can fetch your schedule from her. Then I will accompany you to whatever class you should be having at that time. Okay?"

Jas nodded mutely. She felt twitchy. No matter what SF's intentions had been, their encounter had brought back bad memories. She wished she had her wand. She sighed and hugged herself, feeling rather forlorn. The rest of their trip was spent in silence, with Jas trying to remember the series of corridors and staircases they took. Finally, they came to stop outside a door. SF entered and Jas stood awkwardly outside.

Moments later, McGonagall emerged, looking puzzled. Her expression turned into a scowl at the sight of Jas. "I had half the castle looking for you, young lady, when you didn't come to get your schedule-"

"Minerva," SF interrupted, "I would like to talk to you in your office, please."

McGonagall stared at him, looking positively baffled. "Of course, Severus," the professor said uncertainly. "I have seventh years right now. They should be fine for a few minutes. Just give me a moment." The dark-haired woman slipped back into the classroom, reemerging shortly afterwards.

The three walked towards McGonagall's office in silence. Jas wondered vaguely why SF didn't want McGonagall to say anything in front of her. Was she in trouble already? Most likely, she decided, since she'd already probably missed the entirety of her first class. And then there was SF. She was definitely in trouble with him. And Filch, for that matter. Gloom settled over Jas like a dark cloud. Her very first day and she'd managed to get into all sorts of trouble. Why hadn't she remembered an alarm clock? No wonder the Sorting hat hadn't put her in Ravenclaw. She was a prat.

"Wait out here," SF ordered Jas when they came to the door that she assumed led to McGonagall's office. She noticed he was still using the same level tone he'd been using, as if he was afraid she would bolt if he became angry again.

She just nodded, resisting the urge to tell him she wasn't afraid of him. If she was honest with herself, she wasn't even entirely sure that was true.

After a few minutes, SF and McGonagall emerged from McGonagall's office. To her annoyance, both were expressionless. "Come," SF ordered in the same level tone Jas was growing to despise very quickly.

She trailed after SF while McGonagall nodded at them both and proceeded to return to her class. Jas wondered what they had talked about. It was almost certainly about her, wasn't it?

"Your first class was Charms with Flitwick. There's about fifteen minutes left of the class, so I will take you there. Your next class, Transfiguration, will be in the classroom we just departed from. If you get lost, you should be able to ask a prefect or another Gryffindor for help. Don't ask a Slytherin if you can help it," SF informed her in his now standard, detached voice.

"Why shouldn't I ask a Slytherin?" Jas asked, puzzled.

"Slytherins and Gryffindors are house rivals; thus, it would be rather unlikely any help from them would be sincere."

Jas frowned. She was not entirely certain it made sense to make enemies out of other houses when they were sorted into said houses by an old hat. "What house were you in?" she asked curiously.

"Slytherin."

Jas smiled faintly. "So we're rivals?"

"I suppose," SF answered indifferently.

Jas suppressed a sigh. She would very nearly prefer his anger to his cold indifference. "Isn't it a bit stupid to rival someone because of the house an old hat put them in?" Jas demanded, voicing her earlier thoughts.

SF glanced at her briefly. "That _old_ _hat_ happens to be an ancient and extremely powerful magical object. It has never sorted anyone incorrectly. Did you listen to its song this year? It looks for those qualities prized by the various houses and sorts them accordingly."

Jas scowled. "I got that much. So my redeeming quality is _bravery?_ Isn't that a bit lame?"

SF smirked. "I've often thought as much about Gryffindors. However, there is more to it than that. Gryffindors are valued for their bravery and chivalry; Ravenclaws for their intelligence and love of learning; Hufflepuffs for their loyalty and hard-working nature; Slytherins for their cunning and ambition. Gryffindors are considered…. _Noble,_" SF added, sneering slightly.

"I take it you don't think being noble is a good thing?" Jas asked.

SF huffed. "In my opinion, Gryffindors are arrogant, rash, brave to the point of stupidity, and willing to sacrifice their own well-being for vague ideals of nobility. In a word, they are incredibly stupid."

Jas scowled more deeply. The hat _had_ more or less told her she was stupid. "I'm not like that," Jas complained.

SF snorted. "Apparently you do not know yourself very well." They came to a door which SF stopped outside. He turned to Jas and handed over her wand and class schedule. "I will tell Professor Flitwick to excuse your absence."

Jas nodded. He was excusing her absence? That was oddly- _kind_ of him. Jas was distracted from such thoughts when she was handed her wand. The twelve inch, dragon heartstring, cherry wand warmed to her touch. Jas smiled for the first time that morning. She had definitely missed having her wand.

She followed him through the door, trying to ignore the stares of the other students. Jas sat down in the back of the class on a bench next to the blonde she recognized from the Gryffindor table last night.

SF strode to the front of the room, where a man who couldn't have exceeded three feet in height stood. SF bent over to talk to him- an amusing sight, since SF looked to be over six foot and thus had to double over himself- and they had a murmured conversation. Flitwick nodded and SF swept off.

Flitwick brought a toad over to the bench Jas was sitting at. "Hello, Miss Snape," the short man greeted her jovially. Jas managed to flinch only slightly at her new surname. "We're using the end of the class to practice the Silencing Charm." Flitwick proceeded to demonstrate the correct incantation and wand work necessary to cast the charm. The professor was so intent upon teaching her, Jas refrained from telling him that she was already perfectly aware of how to cast the charm. A review wouldn't hurt, she supposed.

Flitwick finished his lecture and stood, watching her expectantly. Realizing she was expected to demonstrate, she flicked her wand at her toad and said evenly, "_Silencio."_

Her toad opened her mouth to give an almighty, but silent, croak. Flitwick looked positively besides himself. "Bravo! Miss Snape got it on her first try! Five points to Gryffindor. Excellent, Miss Snape, excellent."

Jas smiled faintly at the man as he wandered off to help a student who was having trouble. Jas cancelled the charm, then recast it, assuming they were supposed to practice, even if practicing the charm seemed a bit pointless in her case.

The blonde next to her, who was also performing the charm with ease, casually remarked, "I take it they already taught you that at Beauxbatons?"

"Yeah, you could say that," Jas said vaguely. Actually, they hadn't, she'd just read about it and learned it. It was a useful charm to know.

The blonde gave her a narrow look, but eventually turned back to her toad. "I don't think we've been properly introduced. I'm Camilla Westwood, but everyone calls me Millie."

"Jasmin… Snape, but I go by Jas," she answered dutifully, grimacing over her surname.

"Why were you so late to class?" Millie asked, glancing at her curiously.

"Because this castle is a bloody maze, that's why," Jas grumbled.

Millie laughed. "Yeah, I guess it would be hard for you to find your way around. You should've stuck with the first-years," the blonde said innocently.

Jas glared at her. "When hell freezes over," she retorted. "Besides, I overslept as well. Then Filch found me and dragged me off to the dungeons."

"You overslept?" Millie inquired curiously. "Didn't anyone wake you up? I know Hermione and I always leave early, but I would've thought Lavender or Parvati would've woken you."

Jas shrugged. The thought hadn't occurred to her. "I dunno," she replied, "Maybe they left early too. It would be my luck. Though I can't believe I forgot to get an alarm clock. No wonder that stupid hat put me in Gryffindor," she complained again.

Millie laughed. "You didn't want to be in Gryffindor?" she asked, somewhat disbelievingly.

Jas frowned. "Why would I? All we're known for is bravery. And everyone thinks we're stupid."

The girl laughed again. "Where would you have gone instead?" she asked curiously.

"Ravenclaw. Maybe even Slytherin," Jas answered thoughtfully.

Millie shook her head. "No! Not Slytherin. A ton of dark wizards have come out of Slytherin," she said warily.

Jas shrugged. "Well, one of their qualities is ambition, so that's not so surprising, is it?"

"It's more than that," Mille struggled to explain, "Not all Slytherins are bad, I agree. It's just they can be an unpleasant lot. Gryffindors might be a bit reckless, but I think we're generally good people."

"Hm," Jas said, not entirely convinced.

"Why did Snape bring you to class? You _are_ related to him, aren't you?" Milled said accusingly.

Jas scowled. "I don't want to talk about it," she muttered.

Millie smirked. "You are so related to him," she said primly. "When you get annoyed, you look exactly alike."

"Don't say that!" Jas said, horrified.

Millie grinned. "It's true, you know. Though you don't have his nose and you've got a darker complexion- you look a lot alike," she said. "And it's no use trying to keep secrets around here- eventually, everyone will know everything about you."

Jas considered this. "I doubt that," she retorted.

"Eight inches on the origin and practical applications of the Silencing Charm," Profesor Flitwick announced. "Class dismissed. Have a good day, everyone!"

Jas smiled in spite of herself. "He's a cheerful one, isn't he?"

Millie nodded. "Always," she replied, "But I like him better than Snape, he's completely foul to Gryffindors…" her voice trailed off. "Though I'm sure he has his reasons," she added quickly.

It was Jas' turn to laugh at Millie's unconvincing performance. "It's all right. I'm sure he's a real charmer," Jas said, privately wondering about this vendetta SF apparently had against Gryffindors. Of course, Millie seemed to hold a similar opinion of Slytherins. Jas wondered if she would ever comprehend this odd house rivalry.

Jas followed Millie to Transfiguration, grateful to have someone to follow around the huge castle. "You know," Jas remarked as they wound their way through several narrow corridors- apparently Millie was taking a shortcut- "What I need is a map."

"A map?" Millie repeated dubiously. "I don't think that'd work out very well. Hogwarts tends to move around."

"I've noticed," Jas replied dryly, as the staircase they were on changed directions.

Transfiguration turned out to be more interesting than Charms. McGonagall taught the third-years how to transfigure a mouse into a tea cup, informing them that transfiguring inanimate objects into living objects was far more difficult and a skill they would not learn until their sixth year. Jas was the first Gryffindor to complete the transfiguration, beating even Hermione Granger, something Millie informed her was quite an accomplishment.

Next was their lunch period, something Jas was grateful for, since she had not eaten breakfast. Jas followed Millie down to the Great Hall, remarking that she might actually be getting used to where the Great Hall was, at any rate.

Here, Millie had smiled slyly. "Well, this route only works on Mondays and Wednesdays of odd-numbered years."

Jas stared at her in disbelief. "There is," she declared, "Something _wrong_ with this castle."

"Jasmin _Snape, _I'm so _pleased_ to make your acquaintance," a voice sneered from behind her.

Jas whirled around, her hand automatically hovering over her wand. She saw a boy with hair so blonde it was almost white, a pale complexion, watery blue eyes, and a pointy nose standing in the corridor, his arms crossed and wearing a faintly condescending sneer. Two thickset boys with short brown hair stood behind him, wearing rather vacant expressions.

"I'm afraid I don't know you," Jas drawled back at the boy. He narrowed his eyes ever so slightly.

"Malfoy, why are you bothering us?" Millie snapped, looking annoyed.

The boy called Malfoy glared at Millie, an unpleasant smile playing on his lips. "That's no way to talk to your superiors, Westwood. Mind your manners." He turned his attention back to Jas. "Pity you mix with all this Gryffindor riffraff. I'm sure your _father_ is so displeased that you didn't even manage to get sorted into Slytherin," Malfoy sneered. Jas had to carefully suppress her surprise- how had he known who her father was? Or was he fishing for information?

"I shan't be rude though- I'm Draco Malfoy and these are my friends Crabbe and Goyle."

Jas glared at Malfoy. "You obviously know who I am," she snapped, "So was there something you wanted?" She fingered her wand, longing to hex this arrogant boy's smirk off his face.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow at her. "I don't think your father would be pleased with your rudeness, you know," he commented slowly, "So you might want to watch who you're rude to."

"Why does he keep talking about your father?" Millie hissed, her hand in her robes. Jas was certain she had her hand on her wand.

"Nothing," Jas muttered, hoping Malfoy hadn't heard her question.

"Oh, no, don't tell me you haven't _told_ your little Gryffindor friends?" Malfoy asked, delight evident in his voice. By now, a few students had stopped what they were doing to watch the exchange with interest. Jas groaned inwardly. Who in the hell _was_ this little snob?

Malfoy turned to the watching students. "What? Is it true no one knows who her father is? Of course, the Slytherins do, but we usually know what's going on, don't we?"

"Westwood, I'm afraid your new little friend's father is my Head of House- Professor Snape," Malfoy said smugly, making sure to project his voice so it carried. More than a few students watching gasped and turned to stare at Jas.

Millie spun to face Jas. "_What?"_ she demanded, "Why didn't you say so?"

Jas felt her face heating up. "I- I- it's just-" she stuttered. She couldn't very well say she'd just found out he was her father the day before yesterday, could she? That would lead to a vast amount of questions she didn't want to answer.

"Well, I daresay this is just such a _recent_ development that Jasmin hasn't had time to adjust," Malfoy said, his eyes glinting.

Jas spun on him. How much did the foul little git know? "Shut _up,_" she snarled, whipping her wand out without even thinking about it.

Malfoy had his wand out in a flash. "Why?" he sneered, "You don't want everyone to know that you were nothing more than a little beggar just two days-"

"_Stupefy!"_ Jas bellowed, her fury finally taking over. A jet of red light streaked towards Malfoy and he only narrowly dodged it. Crabbe wasn't so quick, and the red light hit him in the chest, promptly causing him to crumple to the ground. The surrounding students gasped.

"_Petrificus Totalus!"_ Malfoy shouted back.

Jas easily blocked the curse and yelled, "_Tantellagra_!" Malfoy blocked the curse with a flick of his wand.

"_Serpensortia!" _Malfoy yelled. Jas, unfamiliar with the spell, dodged away from where the spell should have hit.

Instead of a jet of light, a large, black, angry snake erupted from the end of Malfoy's wand and landed a few feet from Jas. It rose up several feet in the air, hissing angrily. Several people screamed and Jas was momentarily struck dumb before she quickly gathered her wits, raised her wand, and yelled, "_Stup-"_

But she had been to slow. The snake reacted to Jas' sudden movement and struck Jas' wrist that was holding her wand. Jas screamed and blood spurted out from around the snake's jaws locked around her wrist. She dropped her wand and fell to her knees, trying to rip the snake off her to no avail.

Jas grabbed her wand with her left hand and awkwardly cast a Stunning spell on the snake, only to have it bounce off.

"Get it _off_ me!" she yelled, looking up at Malfoy.

"_Finite Incantum!" _he shouted. Nothing happened to the snake. The boy looked slightly green and had a panicked expression on his face.

"You cast a spell you can't _cancel_?" she screamed, "YOU IDIOT!"

Jas was beginning to feel light-headed. She was sliding around in a huge pool of her own blood and she had lost track of her wand. Her panicked brain could come up with no solutions. She wavered slightly and fell to the ground. Jas could feel her own warm blood soaking the back of her robes. She was vaguely aware of the surrounding students trying to spell the snake off her, and then trying to rip it off her forcefully. Jas moaned, closing her eyes against the pain as she felt the snake's jaws tighten around her wrist, with the telltale sound of snapping bones.


	5. Chapter 5

**Thanks for the reviews :)**

**Since I haven't said this before, Harry Potter and his world does not belong to me.  
**

**Happy Thanksgiving to those of you who celebrate it!**

Jas awoke to a throbbing sensation in her arm, wrist, and hand. She opened her eyes and blearily looked around. She appeared to be in what she guessed was the hospital wing of Hogwarts. She attempted to raise her throbbing right wrist to examine the damage that had been done to it.

"AHHHH!" Jas screamed in horror. Her entire right arm, from her elbow down, was limp and rubbery. Jas lifted her rubbery skin with her left hand, her mouth hanging open.

SF bolted into the room, looking slightly frazzled. "What is it?" he snapped.

"My- my arm," Jas said, not caring if he was angry, "It doesn't have any _bones._"

"Of course it doesn't," SF said, relaxing slightly. "Madam Pomfey removed them."

"_Why?"_ she howled, her eyes still transfixed on her limp arm.

SF sat down on a chair near her bed. "You have a large number of bones in your wrist and hand. The snake that attacked you nearly took your hand completely off. Your bones were mangled beyond repair, so we had to remove them."

Jas felt a burning in her chest. "Can you fix it?" she asked, tearing her eyes away from her limp arm to stare at SF pleadingly.

SF looked annoyed. "I should probably tell you 'no,' and let you think you have irreversibly damaged yourself for the rest of your life. Perhaps that would make you think twice before engaging in a duel in the corridor." His voice was hard and his eyes glittered dangerously. Jas was silent, willing him to answer her question.

SF sighed. "Yes, we can fix your arm. Regrowing bones is not… pleasant, but Madam Pomfrey should be able to fix you in no time."

Jas breathed a sigh of relief. Now that she knew she was not maimed for life, her mind took on a different path. "Was anyone else hurt?" she asked, feeling rather guilty. She had not produced the snake, it was true, but she had been the one to pull out her wand and she had been the one to send the first hex.

"No, no one else was hurt, aside from Mr. Crabbe, who was hit with your Stunning Spell," SF said, glaring at Jas unpleasantly.

"Oh," Jas mumbled, avoiding looking at SF. She was definitely in trouble.

"Dumbledore should be coming in shortly. He was gone at the time of the incident, but now that he has returned, he will need your account of events-"

"Professor Snape! Did I not tell you that I am perfectly capable of healing Jasmin? Will you stop _hovering_-"

"I am visiting, actually, Madam," SF interrupted coldly.

Madam Pomfrey stopped short, looking slightly embarrassed. "Oh." After a beat of silence, Madam Pomfrey removed a jar labeled Skele-Grow from a cabinet and crossed the room to where Jas lay. "I apologize, Severus, I wasn't aware she was awake."

SF said nothing. Pomfrey carefully measured out a portion of the disgusting-looking liquid in the jar. "Drink this," she ordered, "If you're going to get to classes tomorrow, you'll need to start regrowing immediately."

Jas took a gulp of the liquid and almost spat it back out, it tasted so foul. She coughed for a minute before finally glaring at the nurse. "Go on then," Madam Pomfrey said impatiently, "Drink the rest!"

Jas cast a doubtful look at SF when the nurse thrust the potion at her. "Drink it," he ordered, apparently noticing her hesitation. Pomfrey rolled her eyes. Grimacing, Jas hastily gulped the rest of the potion, screwing her face up against the taste.

"As I was saying," SF continued, ignoring the nurse's presence, "Dumbledore will want to hear your account of events before deciding on the matter."

"Dumbledore?" Jas asked, feeling a prickle of fear. "Why doesn't McGonagall or someone do it? Or you?" Jas did not care to explain what had happened to SF, but she was certain that she would care to explain it to Dumbledore far less. He wasn't renowned for being the most powerful wizard of their era for nothing. Jas sensed the old wizard played down his power and that he could be immensely intimidating when he so desired. She wondered with a small shudder if he ever used his power to intimidate students.

SF looked grim. "Dumbledore must investigate the matter because a student nearly died- it is likely you and Mr. Malfoy could be facing expulsion."

Jas blinked. "Who nearly died?" she asked, puzzled. SF had said the only other one hurt was Crabbe, and she'd only Stunned him…

"_I _nearly died?" Jas asked dubiously as SF opened his mouth to speak, undoubtedly with a sarcastic comment.

"You lost a tremendous amount of blood. You are still alive by sheer, dumb luck," SF confirmed, still looking grim.

Another thought struck her. "_I'm_ facing expulsion? But I didn't nearly kill anyone!"

SF turned the full force of his glare on her. "No, you did not foolishly cast a spell you could not control," he said, looking vaguely uncomfortable as he said so, "But you _did _provoke the duel in which that spell was cast, and you _did _Stun a fellow student. Stunning spells are _dangerous_ and it is a serious offense to use them against a classmate."

"They aren't that dangerous," Jas muttered, gazing forlornly at her limp arm, which was beginning to prickle unpleasantly.

"They can-"

"Jasmin, Severus," a voice greeted them. Jas turned to see Dumbledore standing in the infirmary doorway, smiling at them. "I'm glad to see you're doing well, Jasmin. Gave us all quite a scare."

Jas tried to smile at the headmaster, but was only able to grimace. He seemed harmless enough, but Jas could not help but feel wary of the man, particularly in her weakened state. "You're not leaving, are you?" Jas asked SF nervously. She did not trust SF entirely, but she knew even less about Dumbledore. She would not like to be left alone with him.

SF cast her an odd look. "I can stay," he acquiesced.

Dumbledore seemed to not notice their exchange. "How are you feeling, Jasmin?" Dumbledore asked cheerfully, taking a seat next to SF.

"I'm- okay," she said falteringly, "My arm's really starting to hurt, though," she added, frowning down at the limp skin that was her arm. It _was_ hurting, and quite intensely. She felt as if small, white-hot knives were being shoved into her arm.

"That would be the Bone-Regrowth Potion working, if I am not mistaken," Dumbledore said.

"Oh," Jas muttered, frowning. How long would it take? She was no stranger to pain, but this _hurt._

"Lemon drop?" Dumbledore asked, pulling a candy from his pocket and popping it into his mouth.

Jas shook her head. Dumbledore liked lemon drops?

"Now, if you don't mind, could you humor me with your tale of how you received this most grievous injury?" Dumbledore asked

Jas haltingly told the headmaster what she remembered, up until she lost consciousness. She avoided looking at Dumbledore or SF as she told the tale, preferring to look instead at the wall across from her bed. A brief silence fell after she finished. She felt a burning in her stomach. She'd only been there for one _day_ and she'd already managed to completely flout school rules, not to mention almost get herself killed. And despite what she thought of the two men sitting next to her, they had yet to do her any harm, which was quite unusual, in her opinion, for authority figures. In fact, both of them had been arguably kind to her at some point or the other. In return, she had made a spectacle of herself. Jas bit her bottom lip nervously. If she was expelled, what would SF do? He was a professor, he couldn't very well watch her all the time. Would she be allowed to go to a different school? She was running out of schools to attend! What if he decided to send her back to a group home? Could he even do that? As much as she thought SF was a cold-hearted git at times, the idea of going back to a foster home was terrifying. What if she encountered another Mr. Proust? She'd have to be on her guard all the time. And she'd already proved to herself that living on her own was impossible to do without using magic and thus drawing the attention of the magical authorities.

Jas chanced a glance at the silent Dumbledore to see him peering down his crooked nose at her. "Jasmin," he began slowly, "I must impress upon you the seriousness of what you did. Stunning another student is _completely_ unacceptable. Any number of things could have gone wrong, and your Stunning Spell would have led to Mr. Crabbe's death." Jas felt her stomach bottom out. She was going to be expelled. Her arm throbbed intensely, but she ignored it, as her pulse sped up.

"However, I believe you did not intend serious harm," Dumbledore continued. Jas felt a surge of hope. "As Mr. Malfoy also did not. Therefore, I will leave your punishment to Professor McGonagall and Mr. Malfoy's punishment to Professor Snape. Normally, I would write to your parents, but, conveniently, he's right here." Dumbledore smiled at SF, who had not lost his grim expression. Yes, she thought, her gloom returning, _conveniently _he is right here. She had not been expelled, but SF may kill her yet.

"I must take my leave," Dumbledore said. "I hope you have a speedy recovery, Jasmin," the old wizard said cheerfully. "Good day, Severus."

Jas watched Dumbledore leave with mixed emotions. He seemed relatively harmless, after all. Although perhaps that was the effect he went for. She leaned back, feeling somewhat relieved. With any luck, SF would at least wait until she was recovered before he attacked.

"Jasmin," SF growled. Or maybe he wouldn't, Jas thought forlornly, grimacing against a sudden sharp pain in her arm. "As the headmaster attempted to impress upon you, what you did today was extremely foolish. You could have been- you very nearly _were_- killed. No matter how another student provokes you, dueling is never the answer."

Jas struggled to control herself as the pain in her arm increased. "Didn't you ever duel when you were in school?" she demanded petulantly, trying to focus her attention on the conversation. SF's eyes narrowed and she hastily added, "Sir. I was just curious."

SF hesitated, frowning at her. "It doesn't matter what _I_ did when I was in school," he stated coldly.

She fought back a smile. That almost certainly meant he had dueled. "You could always just teach me how to be a better dueler," Jas suggested innocently, biting the inside of her cheek as the pain in her arm rose to an almost intolerable level.

SF glared at her narrowly. "We'll see," he said finally, surprising Jas.

Further pain in her arm finally forced her to turn to look at her arm and she bit back a gasp. The skin had gone from pale and rubbery to a mottled gray with a spider-web of faint lines tracing their way across her skin. The pain grew in intensity with each passing moment. She blinked back tears that were suddenly stinging her eyes, although she wasn't sure if it was from the pain or the discomfit of seeing her arm look like a cracked statue.

"How are you feeling?" SF asked, standing so he could see her arm. "I will give you some potion so you can sleep," he added, noticing her pained expression.

Jas nodded vaguely, desperately trying to think about anything besides her arm. SF walked over to a cabinet and extracted a bottle of potion, examining it carefully. He poured a portion of it into a glass, which he offered to Jas. Without hesitation, she gulped it all down as quickly as she could. She was considering chopping her arm off to rid herself of the horrible, aching pain in her arm, and she was ready for anything that would distract her from it.

Almost immediately, the potion took effect and she began to feel drowsy. The last thing she saw was SF standing over her bed before her eyes fluttered shut.

* * *

Jas finally left the hospital wing at nine that night, after Madam Pomfrey had fussed over her sufficiently, all while SF observed silently in the background. As far as Jas could tell, SF had not left the hospital wing during her ordeal, something that had apparently caused Madam Pomfrey quite a bit of annoyance. Jas was relieved to discover, upon awaking, that her arm was back to normal, besides feeling a little stiff and a faint white scar running across her wrist, from the deepest gash from the python, that Madam Pomfrey had been unable to completely rid Jas of.

SF walked her back to the Gryffindor common room, informing her that she was to see Professor McGonagall about her punishment tomorrow morning, before classes began. Jas did not relish the idea of getting up even earlier in order to be chewed out, but she did not complain, knowing how close she had come to being expelled.

"Do be careful," SF said dryly, before leaving her in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady. Jas stared after his retreating back. SF had been acting very, very oddly. She had no time to consider his strange behavior, however, as she had homework to do and classes to catch up on. She'd missed Defense Against the Dark Arts, Arithmancy and Care of Magical Creatures. As she stepped through the portrait, a hush fell over the common room. Jas looked around, feeling awkward for many reasons. For one, she was now certain everyone knew that she was Professor Snape's daughter. For two, she was pretty certain that Malfoy had probably told everyone that she'd been an orphan up until yesterday. Finally, she had also just returned from almost losing her life in a duel against a fellow third-year, which was just embarrassing.

She pretended not to notice all the curious stares she was getting and the whispers around her.

"-see her wrist?"

"No, it was her wand arm-"

"-no! I can't believe he actually _shagged_ someone!"

"They actually do look a bit alike-"

"Only she's _attractive_, which cancels out the similarity-"

Jas hurried into the girl's dormitory, deciding she would rather do her homework in her bed than in the common room. She was just pulling out her books, resolving to ask about homework in the classes she'd missed tomorrow since she did not care to face the crowd in the common room to ask someone, when Millie came into the dormitory.

"Hiding?" the blonde girl asked casually, surveying Jas and her books.

"No!" Jas protested indignantly. "I was- I was just- er-" her voice faltered and she sighed. "Yeah, hiding," she agreed.

Millie smiled. "S'okay," she reassured Jas. "I'm glad you're all right. It was really scary, what happened…" her voice trailed off slightly and she gave Jas a sideways glance. "I'm sorry I didn't help more. I tried to get the snake off you but everything bounced off it and then I couldn't even pry its jaws open-"

Jas stared at her with interest. "You tried to pry its jaws open?" she asked curiously.

"Yeah, me and then this fifth year boy tried and neither of us could get it off you. It's a good thing Harry showed up when he did," Millie said fervently. "Even if it is a bit creepy what he does, he definitely saved your hand, at least, if not your life."

"Harry saved my life? Harry who?" Jas asked, puzzled. SF hadn't mentioned anything of the sort, just saying she had lived by 'dumb luck.'

"Harry Potter, of course," Millie said exasperatedly, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "He happened to take the same way down to the Great Hall as us and when he saw the snake attacking you, he told it to stop and it did. Would've been better if he could've come along about five minutes earlier, of course, but I suppose it all ended well-"

"He _told_ the snake to stop attacking me?" Jas asked disbelievingly. "Wait- you mean Harry Potter is a _Parseltongue?"_

She had read about Parseltongues briefly in some books she had read for interest and, from what she had gathered, usually only dark wizards were Parseltongues.

"Of course… you didn't know?" Millie asked.

Jas shook her head slowly. "So he saved my life," Jas mused. "SF- er- Snape didn't tell me."

"You call him SF?" Millie asked, looking interested. "Does his middle name start with F or something?"

"Er- no- just a convenient name," Jas said vaguely.

Millie didn't seem to notice, as her face darkened slightly. "I suppose Snape wouldn't tell you. I wonder if he feels guilty," she said contemplatively. "He _should_, in my opinion," she said, seeming somewhat angry. To Jas' bewilderment, Millie cast her a somewhat apologetic glance.

"Why should he feel guilty?" Jas asked, puzzled.

"Well…" Millie hemmed, "You didn't hear it from me, but Snape taught Malfoy that spell in second-year during our dueling club. I guess he didn't bother teaching the stupid git how to _cancel_ the spell," Millie added darkly.

Jas stared at the other girl, slightly shocked. That didn't sound like SF at all. "Why would he teach a second-year that spell?" she demanded. "And why didn't Malfoy learn how to cancel it? How'd he get rid of the snake during dueling club?"

"Well, I suppose it wasn't all Snape's fault. Our mind's weren't really on the spell after it was all over," Millie amended. "That was the night the whole school found out Harry Potter was a Parseltongue. Malfoy cast the spell and the snake got out of hand and Harry Potter talked to it… I don't even know what he supposedly said to it… but anyway, everyone pretty much freaked out."

"Oh, right," Jas nodded, remembering. "That was the year you guys had a big fuss about the Chamber of Secrets. We did an essay on it in our History of Magic class."

"Really?" Millie said, looking pleased.

"Yeah," Jas confirmed, deciding not to tell her the essay had been about common historical myths.

Millie grew sober again. "Anyway, I didn't mean to be so freaked out about hearing that Snape was your dad, but it's just sort've…weird."

"I can see why," Jas agreed. _She_ still found it hard to believe she was his daughter. In fact, she planned on double checking whether that was a fact as soon as she could.

"I can't believe that git Malfoy didn't get expelled," Millie complained, taking a seat on Jas' bed and opening a Chocolate Frog package. "Chocolate Frog?" she offered to Jas, indicating her pocket.

Jas shook her head. "_I_ almost got expelled," she said, still feeling the nerves she had felt at how close she had come to getting chucked out. "I had to talk to Dumbledore and everything." Of course, it wouldn't have been the first time she was expelled, but she doubted it got any easier the second time around.

"What?" Millie exclaimed indignantly, through a mouthful of chocolate. "What for?"

"Because I Stunned Crabbe," Jas explained.

"Oh," Millie said, looking at the Chocolate Frog card. "I forgot about that." Millie frowned at the card. "I've already got four of her," she complained. Then she glanced at Jas' books. "You want my notes for the classes you missed? I know you had Defense, what other classes did you take?"

"Care of Magical Creatures and Arithmancy," Jas answered promptly.

"I'm in Care of Magical Creatures too," Millie offered, "But I took Muggle Studies instead of Arithmancy or Divination. I'm from an old wizarding family, so I don't know anything about Muggles."

"Really?" Jas asked, fascinated. "I grew up with Muggles so I didn't know a thing about magic until I got my letter from Beauxbatons."

Millie gave her an odd look. "Why'd you grow up with Muggles? Wasn't Snape there?" she asked uncertainly.

Jas flushed slightly. She'd assumed Malfoy would tell everyone what he knew. Maybe he hadn't, after all. "No," Jas said hesitantly. "He wasn't."

"Oh," Millie said, obviously deciding not to press the issue. "Well, I bet it was a bit of a shock finding out about being a witch-"

"I actually just found out Snape was my- er, dad the day before yesterday," Jas said quickly, before she could think better of it. It would eventually come out, anyway. It might as well come out on her own terms.

Millie gave her an incredulous look. "_What?_ " she said, her eyes wide. "You're _joking._"

"Nope," Jas said, grinning slightly at the look on Millie's face. "Turns out your professor had an illegitimate daughter in France he never knew about. Sounds dramatic, doesn't it?"


	6. Chapter 6

After several Chocolate Frogs and a few Bertie's Bott every flavor beans- apparently Millie was very fond of sweets and kept up a large supply in her trunk- Jas had filled Millie in on the odd events leading up to her arriving at Hogwarts.

"Wow," she said finally, when Jas had finished. "_Wow._ You've been through so much- no wonder you know more spells than the rest of us-"

Jas shrugged. "I dunno, I just did what I had to, you know?" She bit her lip nervously. "Though I am worried about what SF's going to do to me when he finally gets me alone with my record again."

Millie laughed. "I can't believe you have a criminal record. That's awesome. We have to be friends," she decided, smiling at Jas.

Jas raised an eyebrow. "Having a criminal record makes me desirable as a friend?" she asked dubiously.

Millie rolled her eyes. "Obviously!" the blonde girl huffed. "The other third-year girls are so _boring_- Lavender and Parvati are all into their looks and Hermione never takes her nose out of a book- although she does get to tag along on Harry's adventures, lucky her. I have to hang out with Fred, George, and Lee Jordan just to get any entertainment around here!"

Jas didn't have the slightest clue what she was talking about. "I never have followed rules very well," Jas said thoughtfully. "Although SF says that has to change."

Mille grinned. "And it's even better, being the professor's daughter. Higher stakes," she said, her eyes glinting devilishly.

* * *

The next morning, Millie woke her up early. "Get up, Jas!" she muttered, shaking her. "You have to get up so McGonagall can yell at you, remember? And did you _still_ not get an alarm clock? Doesn't Snape have an extra?"

Jas sat up, rubbing her eyes tiredly. She was _not_ a morning person. "Oh no…" Jas muttered, "I didn't get an alarm clock yet, did I?"

Millie laughed. "No wonder the Sorting hat didn't put you in Ravenclaw," she said, smirking slightly. Jas threw her pillow at the girl and climbed out of bed.

"I got the Transfiguration before Hermione Granger," Jas retorted, "I _so_ could have been in Ravenclaw."

After they both showered and dressed- Jas was pleased to note that Millie did not take two hours to put on several layers of make up and do her hair- Mille walked her to McGonagall's office.

"Hopefully she won't take away too many points," Millie said, "Although if Snape was fair, he'd take away a bunch from Slytherin. I wonder what punishment he gave Malfoy. It had to have been bad. I mean, the git almost got his own daughter killed."

"I still don't understand the house rivalry thing," Jas commented idly.

Millie launched into an explanation involving house points, Quidditch, and a rather detailed history of Hogwarts. Jas was beginning to understand, although she still did not strictly approve of the house rivalry, by the time they reached McGonagall's office.

"Good luck," Millie said, smiling at her bracingly.

Jas knocked on the door tentatively.

"Enter," a voice called from within.

Jas took a breath and opened the door cautiously. The stern-looking, black-haired witch was sitting behind a desk with her fingers laced together in front of her. "Miss Snape," McGonagall said coolly, "Come in and sit. Please close the door behind you."

Jas obliged, noting the chilly tone in McGonagall's voice. She avoided looking at McGonagall and instead chose to study some of the portraits on McGonagall's wall. All of them appeared to be snoozing, although she could have sworn one of them was only pretending to be asleep.

"Miss Snape," McGonagall began severely, "I assume that Professor Dumbledore and Professor Snape have already told you how serious your actions were, but I will tell you again. Stunning a fellow student was a very reckless thing to do, indeed. What if the snake had turned on Crabbe? He would have been completely helpless. What if you had used too much power and had knocked him down the stairs behind him? He easily could have been killed. Dueling is not allowed in the corridors in the first place and attacking another student in such a harmful manner is especially serious."

"Yes, ma'am," Jas said quietly when McGonagall paused.

"I am taking fifty points from Gryffindor for your poor decision-making skills. You will also serve a week's worth of detention with Filch. Since, as I understand it," McGonagall said, giving Jas an especially severe glare, "You somehow _already_ have one detention with Filch, you may begin your week of detention with him tomorrow night at eight 'o'clock in the trophy room."

"Yes, Professor," Jas intoned, even though she had no idea where the trophy room was. Millie could show her. She grimaced at the idea of spending an entire week with Filch.

"You are dismissed. I don't want to see you in my office any time soon, Miss Snape," McGonagall added.

"Yes, Professor," Jas repeated, getting up quickly, glad it had been a short encounter.

She hastily left the office and Millie and Jas sped away from the Professor's door before either spoke. "How bad?" Millie asked.

"Fifty points and a week's detention," Jas replied.

"Wow," Millie said, frowning. "She must be angry. I don't know how she's going to take away those points, though- I don't think Gryffindor even _had_ fifty points yet."

They reached the Great Hall and Millie made a beeline for four large hourglasses. Two of the hourglasses were completely empty, while the other two were filled with a smattering of blue-colored and yellow-colored rubies. "Ha!" Millie exclaimed triumphantly. "Malfoy must've gotten his arse reamed out too- Slytherin doesn't have any points either!"

During breakfast, Jas noticed some of the Gryffindors were giving her evil looks. When she pointed this out to Millie, her new friend explained, "It's because you lost us points. I _told_ you, people take the house system very seriously. Don't worry though, it won't be too bad, since Slytherin lost a bunch too and they're our main competitors."

"Jeez," Jas muttered as another Gryffindor glared at her over their breakfast, "I guess you guys do take it seriously. I'll keep that in mind. What do we have today?"

"Double Herbology, Double Potions, History of Magic, and Astronomy tonight," Millie said, her voice growing more morose with every word.

"Ugh," Jas commented. "So I've been plotting-" Jas began.

"Already? Don't lose any more points any time soon," Millie advised.

"No, not that kind of plotting." Jas lowered her voice and looked around. "I want to er- double check whether or not SF is really my dad."

"Double check?" Millie repeated, puzzled. "Why?"

Jas explained about the Blood Binding Spell and how she couldn't be sure if it was a set up or not.

"I don't know, Jas. You two look an awfully lot alike to _not_ be related."

Jas grimaced. "Don't say that," she muttered, "It sort've weirds me out. I'm not used to looking like anyone."

Millie grinned. "But you _do._ And besides, if you didn't understand the spell, why don't you just look it up in the library? It'd be easier than trying to steal one of Snape's hairs- I don't even want to _think_ about that- and sending it off for some Muggle test."

"I didn't think of that," Jas said thoughtfully. "I'll do that."

* * *

Herbology, which they had with Hufflepuffs, turned out to be quite interesting. Some of the Gryffindors were still disgruntled with her, but the Hufflepuffs, who were thrilled to be in the lead for the House Cup for a change, were perfectly friendly. Ernie Macmillan, a cheerful brown-haired boy, was particularly friendly, to Millie's amusement and Jas' vague alarm.

"I can't believe any bloke would fancy you, being Snape's daughter. Especially a Hufflepuff! Everyone is terrified of Snape," Millie informed her as they left Herbology.

"Ernie does not fancy me," Jas growled. "And _everyone_'_s_ afraid of SF? Really?"

"Yeah. Well, he's nice- or nice for Snape- to the Slytherins, but that's it. He especially hates Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs."

"Hmm," Jas said contemplatively. Malfoy's comments were beginning to make more sense.

Snape's classroom in the dungeons was only slightly better than his office. There wasn't any jars of long-dead parts of animals, but the classroom was dimly lit and distinctly gloomy. Jas followed Milly and immediately noticed Malfoy talking to a snub-nosed blonde girl. Malfoy did not seem to notice Jas.

She sat at a bench with Millie in the very back, since Jas did not want to be noticed in the first class she had with her father. Millie muttered to Jas that the two people that had just taken their seats at the bench in front of them were Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. She also pointed out Hermione Granger, who was sitting at another bench with a plump boy. Apparently the three had gotten into quite a bit of trouble over the last two years. Jas looked at the back of the head of Harry Potter with interest. His hair was ridiculously untidy- did he not own a brush? Jas reminded herself that he had saved her life. She should probably thank him or something later, although hopefully SF had done that for her. In fact, shouldn't Harry have gotten points for saving her life? That seemed the sort of thing a Gryffindor would be awarded points for. They were known for their chivalry, after all.

Just as Jas was interrogating Millie on the finer details of the trio's adventures over the last two years, the door to the classroom suddenly slammed shut. The class instantly fell silent.

"Settle down," Snape ordered, striding to the front of the class, his robes billowing behind him. It was an unnecessary order; as soon as he had walked in, the class had gone mute.

"Hopefully none of you chose to slack off over summer break. We will be brewing a Shrinking Solution today. Directions are on the board. Begin." With a smirk, Snape returned to his desk and sat down.

Jas frowned. SF seemed even more curt than usual in class.

As the class progressed, Jas quickly learned why everyone found it so difficult to believe that SF had a daughter. In a word, he was simply _horrible._ He sneered and made snide comments about the Gryffindor's potions while he praised and gave points to the Slytherins. He especially seemed to dislike Harry and his friends, making an extra effort to make snide comments to them, even though there was nothing terribly wrong with their potions. Halfway through class, SF sneered down at a round-faced Gryffindor boy who was positively trembling at SF's presence. The potion was supposed to be a bright, acid green, but the boy's potion had turned-

"Orange, Longbottom," said SF, ladling some up and allowing it to splash back into the cauldron, so that everyone could see. "Orange. Tell me, boy, does anything penetrate that thick skull of yours? Didn't you hear me say, quite clearly, that only one rat spleen was needed? Didn't I state plainly that a dash of leech juice would suffice? What do I have to do to make you understand, Longbottom?"

-excerpt taken from J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban because it was too entertaining not to include

"Poor Neville," Millie muttered sympathetically.

Neville was pink and trembling. He looked as though he was on the verge of tears.

"Please, sir," said Hermione, "please, I could help Neville put it right-"

"I don't remember asking you to show off, Miss Granger," said SF coldly, and Hermione went as pink as Neville. "Longbottom, at the end of this lesson we will feed a few drops of this potion to your toad and see what happens. Perhaps that will encourage you to do it properly."

Jas watched the exchange in horror. SF was being downright _cruel._ Was he always like this to his students?

No wonder no one seemed to like him. Jas was worried for Neville's toad. SF wouldn't _really_ feed the boy's sickly looking potion to Neville's pet, would he? As the lesson progressed, Jas was certain she saw Hermione giving Neville instructions out of the corner of her mouth.

At the end of the lesson, SF stode over to Neville, who was cowering by his cauldron.

"Everyone gather 'round," SF said, looking smug. "And see what happens when you do not pay attention. If Longbottom has produced a Shrinking Solution, his toad should shrink into a tadpole. If he has, predictably, done it wrong, then his toad is likely to be poisoned."

Jas realized SF was actually going to feed the boy's toad his potion. "Er- Professor Snape," Jas said hesitantly. She had a bad feeling about this.

All eyes slowly swiveled to her. "Yes?" Snape said unpleasantly.

"You're not- you're not _really_ going to intentionally poison the toad, are you?" Jas asked nervously.

The class, particularly the Gryffindors, stared at her incredulously. She shifted nervously. She got the feeling SF's actions were not questioned often.

"What does it look like?" SF snapped, looking annoyed.

"But- but sir, you _can't. _ That's Neville's pet," Jas said, trying to sound reasonable.

SF glared at her. "I would take points for Gryffindor for your disrespect, but, seeing as Gryffindor doesn't _have_ any points, I won't bother. You can see me after class, Miss- Snape," SF said, faltering almost indiscernibly at her surname.

Jas wanted to point out that Slytherin hadn't had any points, either, until SF had awarded so many to them for brewing their potions correctly- while conveniently ignoring the Gryffindors who had also brewed their potions correctly- but Millie elbowed her, shaking her head violently. SF deftly dripped some of Neville's potion on his toad. Jas held her breath, then was relieved to see the toad shrink down to a tadpole. SF, looking sour, put a few drops of solution from a jar on his desk on the tadpole, reversing the effects of the Shrinking Solution.

The Gryffindors cheered at Neville's apparent success. SF glared. "Surely one of you dunderheads has managed to earn at least five points somewhere in the castle," he sneered. "Five points from Gryffindor. I told you not to help him, Miss Granger." The Gryffindors' smiles quickly faded and the Slytherins snickered.

Jas stared at SF, feeling hollow. _Why_ was he so _cruel?_

"I'll wait for you outside," Millie said. "Just don't provoke him, Jas."

"But why is he like this?" Jas asked, bewildered.

Millie shrugged. "I don't know. Just the way he is. Hey, on the bright side, you're not in Slytherin, so you won't have to see too much of him."

Jas nodded numbly, feeling terrible. It would be just her luck to finally find a permanent home, with her real father, only to discover her father was a complete arse. She felt a familiar wave of desolation overtake her; the same feeling she had anytime she thought too much about her lack of permanency in life, her lack of a caring family, or a caring _anyone._

Jas blinked and scowled abruptly. She was doing it again; she was feeling sorry for herself.

She headed to the front of the room and stood, stoic, in front of SF's desk. He ignored her, clearly preferring to wait until all of the other students, some plainly curious about SF's professor/parent role, filtered out. SF flicked his wrist at the door when the last student had left and the door slammed shut. Jas jumped slightly, her stab of fear bringing her out of her despair. Was SF angry with her? Probably, Jas thought wearily.

"Jasmin, you cannot question my authority in class," SF said curtly.

"But-" Jas began.

"No. I am your _professor_. How I conduct my class is absolutely none of your business. If you disrupt my class again, I will throw you out." SF's tone was hard and his eyes cold.

Jas felt a surge of anger. "Sorry, _sir_," she snarled, turning away from him. "In that case, I won't bother _coming._ If you're cruel to your students, then I'm going to question your authority. Nothing gives you the right to be cruel!" She stalked away from him, her anger washing over her in waves.

"Jasmin!" SF called angrily. She ignored him and tried to wrench open the classroom door. It would not budge. She spun around, feeling malevolent.

"LET ME OUT!" she yelled, furious.

"No," SF replied coolly. "Sit down."

Jas glared at him, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "No," she said, mimicking his cold tone.

SF's eyes flashed. He strode over to Jas, towering over her. "Sit - _down_," he snapped.

Jas ignored his order, glaring at him. She was not afraid, for a change. She was just _angry._ Angry with SF for being so cruel, angry with the world for tossing her from one bad situation to the next, angry with herself for not being able to figure out how to make things better.

SF growled lightly. He closed his hand around her upper arm and hauled her over to a chair, pushing her down on it none too gently. "Get off of me!" Jas snapped, trying to jump back up, only to discover the chair tried to come with her.

"Expelliarmus," SF drawled and Jas' wand shot out of her pocket and into his hand.

SF flicked his wand at her lazily and she and the chair she was in rose up in the air and drifted to the center of the room. Jas struggled with the chair in midair, but could not detach herself from it. She was _stuck_ to the chair!

As soon as the chair landed, Jas tried to get up again, only to discover she couldn't move at all. The chair appeared to be stuck to the ground. After several moments of trying to free herself, she turned to glare at SF, who was watching her with an inscrutable expression. "Let me _go_!" she howled plaintively.

"No, I don't think I will," he replied. "You are out of line and hysterical. You can stay here until you calm down."

With that, he turned and left the room, leaving Jas to shout after him furiously.

* * *

It was a full two hours later when SF returned to the classroom. Jas glared at him reproachfully as he entered the classroom, but she didn't say anything. She would like nothing more than to fling all of his pickled specimens in his face, but she knew she would not be able to do so from her current position. She'd tried everything she could think of, and she hadn't been able to escape from the chair SF had put her in.

"Jasmin," SF said pleasantly, "Have you calmed down?"

Jas glared at him, resisting the urge to scream. "I'm a bit too old for time out, don't you think?" she asked sarcastically.

SF raised his eyebrow. "If you choose to _act_ like a spoiled four-year-old, then I will treat you like one," he replied. He took a seat near Jas.

Her face flushed, whether it was from anger or embarrassment, she didn't know. She would kill him. "I wasn't acting immature!" she snapped. "I was just trying to _help-"_

"Very kind of you, but I don't require your help," SF said sardonically, leaning back in his chair.

Jas bit back a growl. "Not _you!_ Neville! You would've poisoned his toad!"

"I think you are more concerned for the toad than the boy," SF observed dryly.

"You can't go around killing people's pets!" Jas said, ignoring him.

SF rolled his eyes. "Whoever said I was going to kill it?"

Jas scowled at him. "You said it would _poison_ it-"

"And it is not possible to counteract poisons?" SF inquired. "I hope you are not truly this hopeless at Potions."

Jas gaped at him. It hadn't occurred to her that SF would be able to prevent the toad from dying, even if he had poisoned it. "But- but- how could you have saved it?" Jas asked, her mind taking in the information. Neville had used too much rat's spleen and too much leech juice. That would make a thick, corrosive potion. "I suppose a few drops of Grunby's Salve would do," she said dubiously.

SF shook his head. "That would only work if the only mistakes Longbottom made were adding too much rat's spleen and leech juice. Never underestimate Longbottom's ability to destroy a potion."

Jas frowned. "Then you could use a general antidote with ground up bezoars in it- but wouldn't that be a bit of a waste to use on a toad? Bezoars are expensive."

SF smirked. "Correct. I thought you were the toad's rights activist? Now you're saying they're too expensive to save?"

Jas glared at him. "No, I'm _saying_ it would be more prudent to never poison them in the first place. So," she added, narrowing her eyes at him, "You mean you wouldn't have let Neville's toad die?"

SF looked bored. "Of course not," he drawled, "I've found killing student's pets- as well as killing students, strangely enough- generally leads to unpleasant encounters with their parents."

Jas blinked. Was SF joking? She could never be sure. "Oh," she muttered.

"Ah, the twelve-year-old discovers she does not know everything," SF continued sardonically.

She scowled at him. She would have to kill him. "I don't-" she began stiffly.

"In the future, keep your concerns to yourself," SF said, his voice taking on a razor-sharp edge. "And stop entertaining the idea you know my intentions or, for that matter, that you know why I do _anything_."

Jas bit her lip, scowling at the floor. She had nothing to say and SF knew it. He had triumphed. She may never be able to look him in the face again. Jas began plotting how she would avoid him- Millie was right, it was lucky she was in Gryffindor, the less she saw him, the better-

"Well?" SF said. Jas glanced up quickly to see him looking at her expectantly. She resisted the urge to say _What?_ What did he want? Realization dawned on her and she scowled blackly at the floor.

"I'm sorry," she muttered. Personally, she thought he owed _her_ an apology for leaving her in an empty classroom for two hours.

"Don't let it happen again. Your detention with Filch will began after Astronomy, in the trophy room. You're dismissed." SF waved his wand at her vaguely and she was able to get up. He handed Jas her wand as she scurried past him, glad to escape.

* * *

Jas was still seething when she sat down in the Great Hall to eat dinner. She was angry with SF for overpowering her and she was mortified she'd been too stupid to realize SF wouldn't truly allow any harm to come to Neville's toad- he was right, he would undoubtedly get into trouble for that sort of thing. She sighed. With each passing day, it became clearer why the Sorting hat had put her in Gryffindor. It was just as SF had said about Gryffindors.

She was a bloody idiot.

"Hi," a tremulous voice came from her left. Jas turned to see Neville smiling at her. "Thanks for trying to stand up for me in Potions- you didn't have to- I hope you didn't get in too much trouble."

Jas smiled weakly back at him, aware all the Gryffindors in her year were now listening. "S'okay," she said.

"I thought Snape was going to kill you, myself," Ron Weasley said.

"Is it true you just found out Snape was your dad a few days ago?" an unfamiliar older boy asked.

"Uh…" Jas said, aware now that the entire table was listening, "Well, um, yeah," she said, figuring it would come out sooner or later anyway.

Everyone stared at her. Jas poked at her food uncomfortably. Someone let out a low whistle. "Well, I bet _that_ was a nasty shock, eh?"

Jas glanced up to see the red-headed twins she'd noticed before, standing by the Gryffindor table with a boy Jas didn't recognize and Millie. Millie elbowed the red-headed twin who had just spoken and cast her a sympathetic look. Millie sat down next to Jas.

"How are you?" Millie asked. "I would've waited for you, but Snape nearly ripped my head off when he came out of the classroom and found me out there."

Jas sighed. That sounded like SF. "It's all right," she reassured Millie, keeping her voice low, "You wouldn't have wanted to wait. I was down there for over two hours."

"Two _hours?"_ Millie repeated, aghast. "Were you talking the entire time?" From her expression, Jas could tell Millie could not think of anything worse than chatting with SF for two hours.

"No," Jas muttered. She didn't care to explain how SF had more or less put her in time out.

Millie cast her a puzzled look, but at that moment, the two red-headed twins and the boy they were with sat down across from Jas and Millie. "Hello!" one of the twins said brightly.

"I'm George-"

"No, I'm George-"

"And this is Fred-"

"I'm Lee Jordan," their friend offered.

"We've heard about your recent adventures, and we must say, we're impressed. First dueling with that little git Malfoy- pity you didn't finish him off, but I suppose you can't always get what you want- and then you stand up to the dungeon bat-"

Lee Jordan elbowed Fred. "Er, I mean Professor Snape. Really, you're shaping up quite nicely." The three of them beamed at her.

Jas blinked at them. "Well, it's nothing really- he's my- my- er-" She couldn't, especially after recent events, bring herself to say 'father' or 'dad.'

"Dad," Millie supplied helpfully.

Jas, Fred, George, and Lee Jordan all grimaced. "Please, we prefer not to think about that," George explained.

"Definitely not," Lee Jordan added, shuddering slightly.

"Me neither," Jas muttered, evoking laughter from her right. She looked up to see Ron Weasley laughing. She noticed Harry Potter was sitting next to him, looking at her curiously.

"Ignore our brother, Ron, he's tactless," Fred said dismissively. Ron chucked a dinner roll at Fred's head. Fred ignored him. "Some of the Gryffindors are a bit wary of you for being- er- Snape's- spawn, but we figure- you were sorted into Gryffindor, so obviously you're not like Professor Dungbat- I mean, Professor Snape."

"I don't really know him very well," Jas admitted gloomily. She feared getting to know him better. You didn't get an entire school to hate you for nothing.

"All the better. I'd advise against it, personally. So- are you planning any more exploits?" Fred asked curiously.

Jas blinked. "I think they'll chuck me out if I do anything else. I almost got expelled for the duel."

George waved his hand. "They always say they're going to throw us out, they haven't yet. They haven't expelled a student in over fifty years."

Jas smiled. "Good to hear… but even if they don't expel me, Snape might kill me."

"It's a possibility, we won't lie," Fred agreed seriously. "At any rate, we tip out hats to you."

When Jas spotted Harry Potter leaving, she got up to follow him. She was now sure SF hadn't so much as acknowledged him for helping her. She vaguely wondered why SF seemed to hate him so much. Perhaps he'd made SF angry. Apparently saving Jas' life wasn't enough to make up for SF's anger. She should've known; she was sure she was little more than an inconvenience to SF. Perhaps he would be secretly happy if she managed to get herself killed.

"Hey, Harry!" she called out, hurrying after him, Ron, and Hermione. He stopped and turned around. He smiled at her briefly.

"Sorry to bother you. I just wanted to thank you for stopping Malfoy's gigantic serpent from ripping me to shreds. I get the feeling Snape didn't bother thanking you… so I just wanted to." Jas smiled at the boy. His face flushed and he appeared vaguely uncomfortable.

Ron, standing next to him, snorted. "Snape? Thank Harry? Yeah, that definitely didn't happen."

Hermione cast Ron a severe look, which Ron ignored.

"It was nothing," Harry reassured Jas. "I'm just glad it didn't really hurt you."

"You were lucky," Hermione added, frowning at Jas disapprovingly.

"Come of it, Hermione," Ron said amiably, "Malfoy's a little git."

Harry smiled at Jas. "I'll see you around," he said nodding at her and walking off, while Ron and Hermione continued bickering.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: I know I probably sound like a broken record, but thanks for the reviews! They're really encouraging, especially around this time of year (finals, blehhhhh). I'll try to keep my update schedule, but I might fall behind. Good luck for anyone else in the middle of finals!**

After spending far too long squinting into telescopes and making star charts, Millie dropped Jas off in the Trophy Room, where an eager Filch was waiting for her. "Maybe a little hard work will teach you not to break school rules!" he cackled delightedly. Jas resisted the urge to throttle him. She'd heard he was a Squib; that meant she could easily beat the living daylights out of the little man.

Filch didn't let her go until after midnight. He'd made her begin polishing the entire contents of the Trophy Room without magic. She hadn't made much progress, since he was constantly examining her work and making her repolish trophies that he thought did not shine enough.

Jas staggered into her dorm room, remembering at the last minute she still didn't have an alarm clock. She decided she didn't care; with any luck Millie would wake her. Her neck ached from hunching over her telescope and her arms, shoulders, and back were throbbing from hours of polishing. Jas fell asleep almost immediately.

* * *

The next few days were a painful blur. Jas went to class, hurriedly did her homework during her break before and after dinner, went to detention, and collapsed on her bed at night. She spent the entire weekend catching up on reading and homework. She managed to avoid SF and Malfoy and didn't lose Gryffindor any more points, by some small miracle.

After classes on Wednesday of second week, Jas happily informed Millie she no longer had detention.

"Your first detention-free night since you've gotten here," Millie remarked slyly.

Jas glared at her. "Is not," she muttered.

"With your free time," Millie continued, "You should go ask Snape for an alarm clock."

Jas scowled. The idea of asking SF for anything was very nearly intolerable. "Can't you just keep waking me up?" she suggested hopefully. "Until I manage to get an alarm clock on my own, anyway?"

Millie gave her an amused look. "Jas, you don't have any money. How are you going to get an alarm clock? Steal it? Just ask Snape for one."

"All right," Jas finally agreed. It would be nice to have an alarm clock. Hopefully SF wouldn't make it difficult.

"Want me to come with you?" Millie asked.

Jas smiled. It was a nice gesture, seeing as, although Millie wasn't terrified of SF like most of the other people she knew, she definitely was not fond of him. "S'okay," she reassured her. "I'll be fine."

So Jas made her way down to the dungeons. Turning a corridor, she was unpleasantly surprised to see Malfoy with his sidekicks, Crabbe and Goyle, and his simpering wanna-be girlfriend, Pansy Parkinson. Parkinson sneered at Jas, but Malfoy pretended as if Jas simply did not exist, a habit he had developed after their duel. Jas certainly did not mind.

"Seen any snakes lately, Yates?" Parkinson sneered as the foursome walked past. Jas stopped dead. It was not her petty remark about snakes, but her use of Jas' old surname- how had the little twit found out? Jas hadn't told anyone her former surname. Had Malfoy told her? How did Malfoy know so much about things he shouldn't know about?

Jas' hand twitched towards her wand. No, she reminded herself, no. There's four of them and one of me and last time I couldn't even beat one of them in a duel. The knowledge did not make her any happier, but it did make her refrain from attacking. She would attack when she had better honed skills.

She knocked on SF's office door, scowling blackly to herself. She could not wait until the day Malfoy got what he deserved. SF's door swung open, revealing SF towering over her with an unpleasant expression. "In," he said, stepping back to allow her to enter. Jas sauntered in, trying not to feel nervous. She was beginning to think she could only feel two emotions towards this man: fear and anger. How ironic, when, as far as she could tell, SF only felt either anger or indifference on her part.

SF closed the office door behind her and moved over to the wall. "We will talk in my quarters," he said, "We have much to talk about."

Jas frowned. Actually, she just wanted an alarm clock. Was he going to yell at her for something she had done? She strained her memory, but she could not recall doing anything that would displease SF in the last few days.

She followed him into his heavily warded quarters and sat down at the table when he gestured for her to do so. Perhaps it was the fact that she had no idea how to escape from his quarters, should she need to, or perhaps it was SF's somber expression- but wasn't that how he always looked?- but Jas was definitely feeling nervous now.

SF sat down. He summoned tea with a flick of his wrist. Jas wished for sugar, but didn't care to ask for it. "We didn't finish our previous conversation," SF said heavily, stirring his tea absently.

Their previous conversation? Which one? She'd thought the conversation they'd had about Neville's toad was quite finished. Did he mean before that?

"We've already concluded how you came to be expelled from Beauxbatons," Snape began.

Oh, no, Jas thought. Not _that_ conversation.

"What happened after you put a Body Bind Curse on Mr. Proust?" SF asked.

Jas stared at him. Had he been planning to do this tonight? SF did not seem like a spur-of-the-moment kind of man. If he had, it would've been lovely if he would've informed her of his intentions. That way, perhaps she could've avoided him. "Er- I need an alarm clock," Jas said.

It was SF's turn to stare at her. "Duly noted," he said dryly. "After you put a Body Bind Curse on Mr. Proust?" he prodded.

"What happened to him?" Jas asked, frowning suddenly.

SF sighed. "Dumbledore will let you know when he knows. _Now_," he said, lacing his fingers together and giving Jas a piercing stare.

"Okay, okay," Jas muttered. "After I cursed him… I got a letter a few minutes later, I don't know _how_ they got it there so fast. They told me I'd been expelled and the Magical Reversal Squad was on its way." Jas felt slightly ill, remembering how she'd felt reading that letter. Especially the word 'expelled.' "Anyway, I was already throwing everything in my trunk at that point because Mrs. Proust heard Mr. Proust hit the ground and so she came to investigate and found him keeled over. She was screaming and throwing things at me… guess she thought I'd killed him or something, I don't know. So I ran out of the house with my trunk." Jas hesitated. Did they _have_ to do this tonight?

"Continue," SF said.

Jas sighed. "I took Muggle transportation away from the city I was in. It was the middle of the night when I got another owl from the Ministry. It said Magical Reversal had taken care of the Prousts and they gave me the date that my hearing would take place on." Jas chewed her bottom lip. "I decided to leave after that."

"Leave?" SF questioned.

"Leave the country," Jas supplied.

"Dare I ask why?" SF said sardonically.

Jas frowned at him. "Because I already knew what would happen," she explained morosely.

SF raised his eyebrow. "You are a Seer? I did not know."

Jas ground her teeth. Damn him and his sarcasm. "No," she said levelly, "I knew what would happen from experience. I'm just a child to them- I haven't got any say in anything. They'd already expelled me and I was pretty sure they wouldn't revoke the decision- the law is clear. They just wanted me to come to a hearing so they could formally snap my wand and send me back to foster care. And I _wasn't_ going back to foster care- especially not without my wand!" Jas said vehemently.

"They would have deplored your use of magic against Mr. Proust because you did not attempt to run away or fight him using other means first," SF said tonelessly. "So it would have indeed been difficult to convince them that your actions were necessary."

Jas opened her mouth to protest and SF held up his hand. "I'm not saying I would agree with this decision- but it is more than likely the decision they would make."

"It wouldn't matter even if I had tried to kick him or whatever first," Jas muttered bitterly.

"You truly believe so?" SF asked.

"I _know_ so," Jas said irritably. "I'm an orphan- I don't have anyone to complain if they're unfair. They could care less about me. I just would've been made an example of."

"You _were_ an orphan," SF corrected mildly. "And I disagree with your theory, but that is besides the point. How did you come to be in England?"

"Muggle transportation," Jas said evasively.

"I believe Muggle transportation requires Muggle money. How did you come across enough money to make it to England?"

At least that was the slightly less incriminating question. "I, um, made it."

SF gave her a severe look. "You mean you transfigured Muggle money?"

Jas nodded slowly.

"And am I to assume you received letters warning you for your use of underage magic?"

Jas' brow furrowed. "I don't know," she said honestly. "There was an owl trying to get to me on the train as I was leaving France, but I just ignored it. A while after I left France, it stopped following me."

"And how did you travel across countries using Muggle transportation? In my experience, you need documentation and such."

"I… I, uh-" Jas stuttered. This was not good. She couldn't lie to SF, he would know. Yet she did not want yet another black mark on her record.

"Yes?" SF said, his voice dangerous.

"I Confunded a few Muggles," Jas muttered.

SF sighed. "How many, to be precise?"

Jas thought. "Well… um. Quite a few. Every time we crossed a country or any time one of them seemed suspicious."

SF rubbed his temples. "Is there a particular reason you chose to come to England?"

"Yes," Jas said defensively. "I wanted to be in a country where I spoke the language, at least. I'm fluent in French, Spanish, and English, but I felt like Spain was too close to France for my liking, so I thought England would be a good place to start over."

"And how did that work out?" SF inquired dryly.

"Not well," Jas admitted morosely. "The British Ministry picked up on my use of underage magic immediately. I tried to use it as sparingly as I could, but it was difficult not to use it. Then the Ministry somehow figured out I was the one transfiguring Muggle money- I don't know how they figured it out so quickly. So the Aurors started looking for me and I started using even more magic to avoid them. I stopped transfiguring money because I thought maybe they'd leave me alone-" SF rolled his eyes, "-but they kept looking for me. I was getting really hungry since I couldn't buy food anymore."

"Yes," SF said dryly, "They do tend to keep an annoyingly close watch on witches and wizards who give Muggles fake money."

"It'd be okay if I could've figured out how to make the transfiguration permanent," Jas said, frowning.

"No, it would not," SF said sharply. "The Muggles produce only as much money as the amount of gold they have- they're money is representative of this gold wealth. So if there are too many rogue witches and wizards producing extra amounts of money, then the Muggle financial system could collapse."

"Oh," Jas muttered. She wondered why Muggles didn't simply use real gold in their money to avoid this problem, like witches and wizards did.

"So it was around this time you were apprehended?" SF asked.

"Yes," Jas agreed, "I was asleep in a park in London when some Muggle boys tried to mug me. At first, I just fought them physically, since I can fight pretty well, but I hadn't eaten for a week and so I was pretty weak. They stole my trunk- I'd shrunk it down and put it in my pocket, so I don't think they even realized what they'd stolen- so I used my wand on them to get it back. Only it was at such close range, they got my wand away from me and we were fighting again when the Aurors showed up."

Jas sighed. "The Aurors were more interested in getting me than stopping the Muggles, so the Muggles got away with my trunk and the Aurors captured me."

"Yes, Parker captured you," SF sneered. "How dreadful. What is this property damage, then?"

"Well, during the fight, especially with the Aurors, we damaged a lot of things in the park… personally, I don't think any of it should have been _that_ hard to fix, but I don't know. And it wasn't like it was just me- some of it was the Aurors' fault!" Jas complained.

"Yes, well, I am sure the responsibility falls on you since it was you whom they were trying to apprehend," SF said indifferently.

Jas scowled. It didn't mean it was fair. SF leaned back in his chair, his glittering black eyes studying her. Jas looked away, choosing to stare at the table instead. It still unnerved her that they had the same eyes. How strange it was to resemble another person.

SF sighed. "Do you think your actions were wise?" he inquired.

Jas' brow furrowed. What did he mean by that? "I don't understand," she said.

"Do you think what you did was morally correct," SF explained, his lip curling slightly as he spoke, as if talk about morals was particularly distasteful to him.

"I don't know about being morally correct- I mean, I guess not- but I didn't have a choice, did I?" Jas said, feeling nervous. Was this a trick question?

"There is _always_ a choice, Jasmin," SF said, frowning at her. Incorrect, Jas thought morosely.

"Well, I wasn't going to go back to foster care, if that's what you mean," Jas said defensively. "Especially not since I'd have to have my wand snapped in half- how would I defend myself if things got too bad?"

She sighed. "No one understands- foster care is no picnic. No one cares about you. You're someone's maid, babysitter, free labor, trophy or whatever. You're never just- just a child." She frowned, feeling perhaps she was revealing too much. She decided it didn't matter, seeing as SF could apparently read minds anyway. "And it was especially bad for me. There were some nice people who would foster children because they're genuinely nice- but I always scared them off with my accidental magic." Jas stared morosely at the table.

"So no," she said, shaking herself slightly, "I _wasn't_ going to go back. I was starving too death in England and I still didn't want to go back. I'd rather starve- some foster parents would starve you, anyway, to save money- then go back. Maybe what I did wasn't right, but I didn't know what else to do." Jas choked on the last words. SF couldn't judge her, it wasn't fair- he hadn't been there, he hadn't felt how she'd felt.

She fell silent, trying to push away her memories of that time in her life. After a few moments, she chanced a glance at SF. He was still leaning back, studying her, his face inscrutable. "I see," he said finally, looking thoughtful.

Do you? she challenged him silently. Do you really?

"I must impress upon you that what you did- no matter why you did it- was wrong. You lied, stole, and assaulted hapless Muggles." Jas flinched at his words. He made it sound so terrible. _Was_ it that terrible?

"I didn't steal," Jas protested, frowning.

"Giving Muggles money you know is fake in exchange for goods is precisely the same as stealing. In fact, Muggles see it as a worse crime than stealing, I believe." Jas flinched again. She hated the way he sounded, almost as if he would've expected better from her. He didn't even _know_ her. She vaguely wondered how he knew so much about Muggles.

"I was hungry," Jas muttered. It wasn't like she bought a bloody new wardrobe with the money.

"To say that the ends justify the means is no excuse," SF stated disapprovingly.

Jas sighed, biting her lip. Her stomach burned unpleasantly. She did not like being knocked down for what she'd done. Was she a bad person? Jas scowled at the table. Did it even matter? What did SF want?

"And then there is the matter of your incident with Draco Malfoy," SF continued, sighing.

Jas thought of something. "How does that little git always know so much?" she demanded.

"The Malfoys are a very old wizarding family and Lucius Malfoy, Draco's father, has quite a lot of influence in the Ministry," SF said coldly, "So undoubtedly Mr. Malfoy learns much from his father."

Of course. The Ministry had captured her and the Ministry had brought her to SF and the Ministry had traced her back to France. No wonder the overgrown poodle knew so much.

"I am acquainted with Lucius," SF continued, "And so you would do well to obey me when I tell you not to antagonize Mr. Malfoy."

"What?" Jas protested. "He was antagonizing _me_!"

"Yes, well, ignore him. It would be excellent practice for learning how to keep your temper in check," SF said, sounding bored.

Jas glared at him. "What, are you afraid of Lucius or something?" she sneered, furious. Malfoy was the stupid git who had almost killed her and SF was telling her to be _nice_ to him?

SF's eyes flashed. "Watch your mouth," he snapped, his voice hard.

"How am I going to do that? Take my eyes out and turn them around?" Jas suggested sarcastically. She bit her tongue the moment the words were out of her mouth. SF was going to kill her.

SF rose so quickly his chair banged against the floor, almost falling over. He closed the short distance between them in seconds, giving Jas no time to escape. He put both hands on the arms of Jas' chair and leaned over her, his face taut. "I cannot possibly _imagine_," he snarled, "What you think gives you the right to be so bloody disrespectful!"

Jas was leaning as far away from him as possible, fear overriding her anger. She refused to look at him, instead staring determinedly away. She felt raw with mixed emotions. Her eyes stung and she blinked angrily. She could not stay in this man's presence for any amount of time without eventually wishing to cry. She wondered if he had that effect on most people.

"Jasmin," SF said, his voice sounding surprisingly level, "Look at me."

She considered not listening to him, but he was too close for her to dare directly disobeying. She turned her head so her eyes met his, her chin stuck out stubbornly and her jaw set.

SF immediately leaned away from her. "I apologize," he said, frowning, "I did not intend to frighten you."

Jas scowled. Where did that come from? She wanted to tell him he had done no such thing and that she did not even find him remotely frightening, but that would be a lie, and SF was annoyingly good at picking up on lies.

SF sat drew a chair near hers and sat down. "Jasmin, you were rude. I will not tolerate rudeness from you. Apologize."

She considered pointing out that he was almost always rude, but she refrained. She was in no mood to be throttled. "I'm sorry," she muttered. Perhaps she was sorry. She did not enjoy provoking this man- it was a dangerous business.

"If you will recall," he continued, "I told you before that you could not possibly know- or understand, for that matter- my intentions or why I choose to do things. You are a child and I am your father- if I tell you to do something, you will obey, whether you understand or not."

Jas scowled. "I'm not a robot or a soldier," she snapped. "Sir," she added hurriedly, when SF's eyes flashed.

"Watch your tone," he growled. "And I'm not _telling_ you to be a robot or a soldier, do not be dramatic. There are simply things you do not understand."

"Couldn't you _try_ to explain to me?" Jas demanded petulantly.

"No," SF said flatly.

Jas frowned. "And what if I don't obey?" she asked, crossing her arms.

SF's eyes met hers. "Then your life will be very unpleasant," he replied levelly.

Jas sighed. "Will you ever tell me? I'm almost an adult," she pointed out.

SF's mouth twitched. "Almost an adult?" he echoed.

Jas glared at him. "Yes," she insisted.

"When you are an adult, I assure you, I will explain all that is prudent," SF said dryly.

Jas frowned. That didn't really mean anything. "All right," she said, privately thinking she was not convinced to be nice to Malfoy- if the git provoked her, then he deserved what he got, no matter who his father was.

"The incident with Malfoy, as well as your history and from what I have observed have led me to come to a few conclusions," SF continued.

Oh, lovely, Jas thought. She doubted she would like any of his conclusions.

"You are reckless, impulsive, and you have a terrible temper, as well as somewhat questionable morals," SF said thoughtfully, as if he were discussing an interesting science experiment and not a person.

Jas simply glared at him. He did _not_ know her.

"You must learn to control your temper and your impulsivity- it could easily get you killed. In fact, it almost _did_ get you killed most recently," SF added severely.

"_You've _got a temper," she pointed out mulishly.

For a moment, she thought SF would be angry. Instead, he smiled at her unpleasantly. "And I have yet to attack you, correct? But you chose to duel with Malfoy at the slightest provocation."

Jas scowled. He had a point. On the other hand, she'd _known_ he wanted to throttle her half the time.

"As for the questionable activities you were previously involved in, know this: if you _ever_ steal or transfigure money or attack a Muggle- no matter the provocation, unless they are actually trying to kill you- or break the law in any way, you will be a very, very, _very_ sorry little girl." SF said this all quite pleasantly, but Jas was rather frightened by the look on his face. She wondered vaguely if he'd ever killed anyone.

"I'm not a little girl," Jas muttered. "And I don't plan on a repeat performance. Like I said, I was just trying to survive." Seeing SF narrow his eyes, she hurriedly added, "But I get your point."

"Good," SF said, looking satisfied. "Are your classes going well?" he inquired, standing up and putting his chair back in its original position.

"Yeah, they're pretty easy," Jas said honestly.

"Beaxbatons was more challenging?" SF asked, interested.

"No, Beauxbatons was probably the same or a little easier. School's just never been difficult for me," Jas said absently. It was true. Muggle or magical school, it didn't matter, Jas picked up on things quickly.

"Excellent. I'll expect top grades, then," SF said, smirking slightly.

Jas glared at him, tossing her hair over her shoulders and narrowing her eyes slightly. "It won't be a problem," she retorted. Did he _doubt_ her? She would show him!

SF walked out of the room, leaving Jas sitting in her chair uncomfortably. She did not yet feel comfortable in SF's quarters, perhaps because she did not know how to leave without his assistance. A few moments later, SF returned with a small, dark object and offered it to her.

Jas blinked at it. "An alarm clock," he said impatiently.

"Oh," she said, taking it from him. It looked very similar to a Muggle alarm clock, only it didn't have a single button or switch. She frowned at it.

"Is there a problem?" SF inquired.

"How do you work it?" Jas asked, after a moment. She could probably figure it out on her own, but on the off chance that she couldn't, she did not want to have to seek SF out once more to ask for help.

SF looked amused, much to Jas' annoyance. "There are a variety of ways to 'work it,' but if you want to set the alarm, tap it with your wand and say "_Resurrectio_ and then whatever time you would like to get up. Make sure to specify evening or daytime."

Jas considered this. "Would it work if I said the times in French?" she asked, feeling that she already knew the answer.

"Yes, of course," SF said impatiently.

"Why is that?" Jas demanded. "It's the same way with the Summoning Spell- how can you use different languages and get the same result?"

SF gave her an appraising look and seemed to consider something. "Well," he said slowly, "That answer is based heavily in magical theory."

"It is?" Jas said, bewildered.

"Yes. Tell me, what is language to you?" SF asked, adopting a professorial tone.

Jas considered. "A method of communication," Jas replied.

"Do you think using language?" SF continued.

"Well, yeah," Jas replied. In fact, sometimes she thought in two languages, but usually only in English.

"Do you believe you would be unable to think without language?"

Jas blinked. She had never considered that before. "No," Jas replied slowly, unsure if that was true. She would be capable of some sort of thought, even if she had no language, she was sure of that. How _advanced_ those thoughts could get without the help of language was a mystery.

"Interesting," SF replied. "There is no right or wrong answer to that question, people enjoy debating it endlessly. My point is, language is tied irrevocably to our thoughts from the moment we learn to speak. We label everything in the world around us. Magic cares little for these labels- when we speak, we think. The deepest, most ancient magic does not come from a wand or incantation- it comes from our minds and, some would argue, our hearts and ah, _feelings_." SF sneered somewhat at that, as if he personally doubted it. "Therefore," he continued, "Our magic is not so much responding to the words we utter when performing magic, but the thoughts that go along with those words. It is why non-verbal spells are possible- verbalization and arguably, language, is hardly necessary, it is simply a crutch used to make magic more tangible."

Jas thought this all sounded immensely complicated, but interesting. "That's interesting," she said slowly.

"Indeed," SF agreed. "I would suggest reading a book on magical theory if you wish to learn more. You should be going, dinner has already begun."

Jas blinked. Getting an alarm clock had taken nearly two hours? "All right," she agreed, standing up. SF led her out of his chambers and opened his office door for her. "I'll see you tomorrow. Thanks for the alarm clock," she said.

SF simply nodded.

Jas sped off, her thoughts wandering. SF seemed intelligent. Of course, he was a professor. She thought he could be an interesting person to be friends with.

That is, if he wasn't so bloody unpleasant.

* * *

"Jas, you do realize being a bookworm and a troublemaker doesn't actually go together?" Millie demanded when she found Jas sitting among a vast pile of books in Hogwarts' library once again.

Jas sighed. "I'm not a troublemaker," she grumbled, "As I don't _make_ the trouble. Trouble just finds me."

"Right, then you're a troublefinder," Millie agreed, "And I suppose it was trouble that made you pull your wand on Malfoy."

Jas scowled. "Don't remind me. I hate that the slimy git beat me."

"I would say it was a draw, since that stupid snake could've easily turned on him and he wouldn't have been able to get it off himself," Millie said consolingly.

"Hmf," Jas muttered.

"What have you been doing in the library so much? I know for a fact you don't have that much homework," Millie said, leaning over Jas to look at some of the books she had piled on the desk.

"I've been researching a few things," Jas said absently, flipping through a thick book.

"Such as?" Millie prodded.

"Well, mostly enchantments and charms for parchment as well as magical mapmaking," Jas explained briskly.

"Mapmaking?" Millie echoed. "You're not still on about making a map of Hogwarts, are you? That would take _ages."_

Jas snorted. "Unless you haven't noticed, Millie, we're going to be here for _years_. I'm sure I can make a decent map."

"You won't need it; just give it a few months," Millie asserted, flopping down on a chair near Jas.

Jas snorted again. "Is that why you got us lost the other day?"

"Oh, shut it," Millie said good-naturedly, taking a book off of Jas' pile and flipping through it. "Hey, what's this? _The History of Purebloods_? You need that for your map?" Millie asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh," Jas said, glancing up with a small frown, "It's the only book I could find that mentioned the Blood Binding Spell. Apparently all the information on it is in the Restricted Section."

"Why do you-" Millie began, then stopped. "You _still_ don't think Snape is your dad? Really, Jas, I'd be shocked if he wasn't. The more I see of you two, the more obvious it is you're related. You look alike, you act alike, you're even sarcastic like him-"

"Do not compare me to him," Jas growled.

Millie smirked. "You even have the same sweet disposition. So how are you going to prove it to yourself, then? Are you going back to your previous plan? I'd love to know how you plan on getting a bit of his hair," Millie said, grinning widely.

Jas smirked back at her. "Oh, I'm not giving up _that _easily," she retorted. She lowered her voice and glanced around. "Madam Pince has to sleep at some point. I'll go through the books in the Restricted Section then."

Millie frowned. "The only problem with your brilliant plan is that when Madam Pince is asleep, it's way past curfew and the library is closed."

Jas rolled her eyes. "Obviously. A Disillusionment Charm and some stealth should be enough to avoid most of the patrols. As for the library, Fred told me they don't lock the library at night."

Millie snorted. "And you _believed _him? I'm pretty sure I've never seen Fred or George in the library so I don't know how they'd know."

Jas shrugged. "Only one way to find out," she said cheerfully.

"Troublefinder… _sure," _Millie said sardonically.

Jas grinned slightly. "I need to find out about this," she protested. "Then I can go back to following the rules. Besides, breaking curfew isn't such a bad thing, is it?"

"No, but wandering around in the middle of the night is. McGonagall will have your head if she catches you. Didn't she say she didn't ever want to see you in her office again?"

"No, that would've been ridiculous. She said she didn't want to see me anytime _soon," _Jas corrected her.

"So when are you planning on carrying out this plan?" Millie asked curiously.

"Tomorrow night," Jas answered serenely.

"Jas!" Millie hissed. "That qualifies as _soon!_ You could get expelled!"

"I thought you disliked boring," Jas remarked, raising an eyebrow. "Besides, it is not soon. It's almost been two weeks since I was in McGonagall's office."

Millie sighed. "Fine. I'll come with you then," she muttered. "Otherwise, you'll get yourself expelled for sure."

"Company would be lovely," Jas said vaguely, sifting through the pile of books again.

"So what progress have you made on this map?" Millie asked, watching Jas scribble something down on a piece of parchment.

"Well, I understand how to make maps, even magical ones," Jas said, looking up, "But Hogwarts is a challenge. The entire castle _changes_ so much, I haven't the slightest clue how to apply magical mapmaking to it. But I'm sure I'll figure it out," she added determinedly.

"I told you," Millie said, picking up another book. "_Fortune Telling and Muggles?" _Millie said dubiously. "Thinking about getting a job for some extra cash?" Millie asked sarcastically.

Jas grimaced. "No. But every interesting subject in this bloody library is in the Restricted Section! That's why I have to get in."

"Interesting subject?" Millie echoed, still eyeing the book.

"Yes. That's one of the few books that mentions something called Legilmency, and it only mentions it very briefly and doesn't really say what it is."

"Why do you want to know what this Legil-thing is?" Millie asked.

Jas sighed. "Well, have you ever gotten the feeling that SF could read your mind?"

Millie nodded. "All the time… wait, are you saying you think he actually _can?"_

Jas nodded. "I think so. I don't know though, I've been trying to find out and Legilmency is the closest I could come to it, but of course, all the books on it are in the Restricted Section."

"That's just horrifying," Millie muttered, shaking her head. "He can actually _read minds_… it's a nightmare, honestly."

"At least he's not your dad," Jas grumbled. "You know how difficult this could make my life?"

"Oh, so now he's your dad?" Millie replied, smiling slightly.

Jas threw her quill at her.


	8. Chapter 8

"We've got to be _really_ quiet," Millie muttered, "There are spells to detect Disillusionment Charms… if a professor hears us, we're dead."

"Then be _quiet_," Jas hissed, creeping through the silent Gryffindor common room. Millie and Jas slipped through the portrait hole.

"Who's there?" the Fat Lady said sleepily.

The padded silently down the corridor and stole around the corner. Jas couldn't decide if it was a good or bad thing that they didn't encounter a single patrol on their way to the library. She'd never snuck around after hours; perhaps there just weren't very many patrols.

Just as Fred had said, the library wasn't locked. They slipped in the door and carefully slid under the rope separating the Restricted Section from the rest of the library.

"That was _easy_," Millie whispered, a deafening sound in the dead silence, "I always imagined it'd be more difficult to sneak around at night."

"Haven't you ever tried?" Jas asked, running her finger down the rows of titles.

"Yes, in first year, but I didn't get far." Millie rolled her eyes. "Prefect caught me. Percy Weasley- heard of him? He's Fred and George's brother. That's actually how I got to be friends with Fred and George. We served detention together."

"Fred and George's brother is a _prefect?_" Jas muttered. "Wow…"

Millie laughed. "I know," she agreed. "Look at some of these titles… _A Magickal Death_... _1,000 Torture Curses_… I only know about the Cruciatus, how many _are_ there? Ooh, look, _Restricted and_ _Forbidden Potions_! I have to look at that one."

"What about later first year and second year?" Jas asked curiously.

"Well, I ran around a bit with Fred, George, and Lee Jordan first year, but they wouldn't let me in on their best pranks, since I was only a first year. Then second year, no one left their dorm after curfew- what with the basilisk creeping around. Hm…I didn't know the Polyjuice Potion was restricted?"

Jas slowly went through the shelves of books in the Restricted Section, occasionally stopping to pull one off the shelf and add it to a steadily growing pile. Time ticked by as the girls sat amidst piles of dusty books, flipping through them and sorting them. Finally, Jas nodded in satisfaction. "All right," she whispered, "I think this should do it."

Millie stared at Jas' stack of books. "Um, Jas, how exactly do you plan on getting all those books back to our dorm?"

"Like this," Jas said, pulling out her wand, pointing at the stack of books and muttering, "_Resilio!"_ The stack o books instantly shrank into little rectangles that Jas put in her pocket.

"You're a genius," Millie said approvingly.

"I know," Jas said, grinning, as she shrunk Millie's book. "Now let's get out of here."

Millie glanced around. "Don't you think Madam Pince will notice half the Restricted Section is missing?" she whispered.

Jas shrugged. "It's not _half_ the Restricted Section… just a few books. Besides, we're going to return them."

"I guess," Millie said, looking dubiously at the telltale gaps in the bookshelves. "Well, let's go. I'm tired."

The two witches renewed their Disillusionment Charms and Jas stealthily cracked the library door open and peaked out into the corridor. It was silent and empty. She slipped through the door.

As Millie was following through the door, Jas heard the sound of Peeves, Hogwarts annoying poltergeist, cackling and it was alarmingly close. "Millie, c'mon!" Jas hissed just as Peeves zoomed around the corridor, juggling what looked suspiciously like dung bombs.

Millie let out a gasp and fled from the library, the door closing behind her with a sharp snap. Peeves stopped juggling and looked around suspiciously. "Whose there?" he called out in a singsong voice. "Is it an ickle firstie or a scary beastie? Say hello to old Peeves, won't you?"

Jas and Millie crept as silently as they could down the corridor, away from Peeves. Without warning, Peeves hurled a dung bomb at them and they both screamed as it exploded on them in a shower of disgusting, foul-smelling contents.

"STUDENTS OUT OF BED!" Peeves bellowed. "STUDENTS OUT OF BED BY THE LIBRARY!"

Not bothering to be quiet any more, Jas and Millie broke out in a full run. They sprinted down the corridor, hurriedly recasting a Disillusionment Charm on themselves to cover up the evidence of the dung bomb, although nothing could hide the horrid stench emanating from them.

"What are you shouting about Peeves?" a voice asked irritatedly.

Jas almost fell over at the sound of that voice. _SF._ Oh, _hell._ If it was possible, Jas ran even faster, feeling as if all the demons of hell were behind her. She did not care to contemplate what SF would do to her if he caught her out of bed in the middle of the night, with a pile of restricted books in her pocket and covered in the aftermath of a dung bomb.

As they fled up a seemingly never-ending staircase, Filch's voice rang out behind them: "Wait! Who's there? Stop!"

Not believing their terrible luck, they didn't stop running until they reached the Fat Lady.

"Fortuna Major, Fortuna Major, Fortuna _Major!"_ Millie panted desperately.

"All right, all right," the Fat Lady said. "What are you two doing out of bed so late?"

They ran into the common room, up the staircase to the girl's dormitory and they both made a beeline to the bathroom. They didn't speak until they'd ripped off their offending robes and were in the shower stalls with water running over them. Finally, Jas began laughing and Millie joined. It was the hysterical laughter of people who have just nearly avoided death.

"W-why are you laughing?" a voice yawned.

Jas jumped and Millie let out a small scream. Recognizing the voice, Jas asked, "Er- why are you up, Hermione?"

"Because I'm going to take a shower," Hermione replied cautiously. "Why are you two up so early? You usually sleep in, don't you, Jas?"

"Oh, no," Millie groaned, realizing what Hermione was implying.

"We're up early today," Jas replied in a strangled voice. Had they really been in the library that long? She hadn't even noticed. Classes today were going to be _wretched._

_

* * *

_

Jas and Millie dragged themselves to Potions after a lunch spent staring blearily off into space. Herbology had been terrible- Millie had spent at least five minutes trying to shove her mandrake into her water pail rather than the pot. Jas had been vaguely aware of Ernie Macmillan chattering away by her ear. She had nodded at what she hoped were appropriate times and tried not to doze off on the Venomous Tentacula next to her. It was a relief when they were finally able to put their ear muffs on so she no longer had to pretend to listen to people.

To her relief, they were only brewing a Pepper Up Potion today, which was rather straightforward to brew. She had also brewed it on many occasions and thus could probably brew it in her sleep, which is more or less what she would be doing. To her dismay, SF told her to stay after class. She knew it could not be because of her potion; it had been perfect.

Millie shot her a worried look and the rest of the class stared at her curiously. Jas vaguely wondered what sort of relationship they imagined she and SF had. She decided she probably did not want to know.

"Yes, sir?" Jas inquired wearily in front of SF's desk.

"You are tired," he remarked, not looking up from the essays he was marking. He scratched angrily with his quill and put a large 'D' on the one he was marking.

"Yes, sir," Jas replied dully. It surprised her how complacent she was when she was tired. She sadly considered that she still had History of Magic to go to.

SF may have found her complacency odd as well; he looked up at her searchingly. "Could your tiredness be related to nighttime strolls in the library?" he asked, his tone deceivingly light.

Jas was thankful for her weariness, as it took a full five seconds for his words to sink in, so she pushed out a reply before she had time to so much as flush. "Or perhaps homework," she replied innocently. She hadn't had much homework, but she figured that statement was safe enough. It revealed nothing.

"Perhaps," SF said dryly. "I would advise against doing so much… _homework_ in the future." He eyed her, a small frown gracing his features. "You look almost sick," he chided. "I trust I do not have to detain you in my quarters to ensure you do not wander the castle at night- or, forgive me, to ensure you do not do excessive amounts of _homework _in the middle of the night?"

Jas had the grace to blush, feeling confused and somewhat ashamed. Had her homework lie been that transparent or was he reading her mind again? She would need to read that Legilmency book as soon as possible. As soon as she got some rest, that is. "N-no, sir," she stuttered. The idea of being trapped in his quarters was more than slightly terrifying.

"Good. You are dismissed," he said, returning to his marking.

Jas fled the room, unsure what had just happened. She almost ran into Millie, who was waiting for her outside the door.

"What happened?" Millie prompted once they were a safe distance from the Potions classroom.

"He knows," Jas muttered, "Somehow, he _knows_."

"Knows about what?" Millie asked, puzzled.

"Last night! He more or less told me not to do it again," Jas explained, frowning at the memory of the conversation.

Millie stopped. "Wait," she said, a small giggle rising in her throat, "You're telling me that Professor Snape _knows_ you were the one wandering around in the middle of the night… and he didn't do anything?"

Jas shrugged. "C'mon, we'll be late for History of Magic. And no, he said if I did it again he'd 'detain' me in his quarters… I'm guessing that means make me sleep there? Because I have a room there too. I don't know. He was surprisingly calm, though. Maybe it's because he can't prove it."

"You have a room in Snape's _quarters_?" Mille murmured in awe.

"Or maybe he's just on drugs or something," Jas continued to herself.

Millie laughed. "The idea of Snape on drugs is… preposterous. I can't imagine him being anything besides completely in control."

"True," Jas agreed with a yawn. "Ugh, History of Magic is going to be terrible."

"Isn't it always? At least, afterwards, we can nap until Astronomy tonight," Millie said bracingly.

"Afterwards?" Jas snorted. "I don't know about _you_, but I'm planning on napping during."

They slipped into the History of Magic classroom and sat at a bench in the very back. Harry, Ron and Hermione sat at the other bench in the back. To her amusement, Harry and Ron looked as thrilled as she was to be here, while Hermione was diligently organizing her parchment to take notes. Ron was dozing off with his head propped up on his hand while Harry doodled on a scrap of parchment.

Following Harry's example, Jas began doodling while Professor Binns began his lecture. During her first few classes with Professor Binns, she had felt badly for her inability to pay the man- or the ghost of the man, anyway- proper attention, but now she knew it was a lost cause. Besides, Binns did not seem to mind that the majority of his class dozed off regularly; on the contrary, he seemed to expect it.

Jas, still somewhat slap happy from lack of sleep, made an amusing cartoon of SF and herself, imagining what would happen if she made him truly angry. In the cartoon, he was breathing fire on her. She was attempting to run away, but was hindered by the chair that was seemingly stuck to her, in much the same manner as the one he had stuck her in the previous week. Using her new found knowledge of parchment spells, Jas colored and animated the cartoon.

She turned to show it to Millie, only to see that she had dozed off with her quill still pressed to the parchment in the middle of making some note about the Goblin Rebellion of 1639. Just as she was considering joining her, a snort of laughter from her right roused her.

Harry had seen her cartoon and was grinning wolfishly at her depiction of SF. She recalled that he and SF hated each other; of course, she couldn't think of a single Gryffindor that actually liked SF. She smirked back at him, wondering why SF disliked him. He was, after all, hailed by most of England as the savior of the wizarding world. She was rather immune to all of that nonsense, having been brought up in France where Harry Potter was not a household name, but she would have thought SF could have seen past his Gryffindor status in light of his history. Then again, this was SF she was thinking about.

She was surprised when he lightly tossed a piece of parchment at her. _In trouble?_ The note simply read.

_You have no idea._ She wrote mysteriously, then directed it to float elegantly back to him.

He grinned. _Show off._ _What's with the chair?_

She smiled ruefully to herself, then found herself explaining, for inexplicable reasons: _Am not. He put me in… time out._

When Harry read that, he had to stifle a laugh, for which Jas shot him a glare. Hermione was also glaring at him, but Jas suspected it was because Harry was not paying attention. Ron grunted in his sleep at the sound of Harry's stifled laughter. Hermione turned her glare to Ron, sighed in exasperation and continued taking notes.

_I always imagined Snape as being more violent in his punishments, _Harry wrote, his continued laughter evidenced by his crooked writing.

_Tell anyone, and I'll have him kill you,_ Jas threatened. _And no, no violence. Yet. _

_ Trust me, Snape doesn't need an excuse to kill me,_ Harry replied.

_I've noticed you aren't his favorite. What did you do, poison his favorite pet snake?_ Jas was curious as to why SF relentlessly antagonized Harry.

_I'm not really sure. Dumbledore told me before that my dad and him hated each other when they went to school. So is he different with you? _Harry was curious about the formidable Potions Professor as a father.

_So he hates you for who your father is? I would've thought he'd be more logical. And I'm not sure what you mean by different. He usually refrains from taking points from Gryffindor or giving me detention while I'm in his quarters, anyway._

_ In his QUARTERS?_ Harry replied.

_Why is everyone shocked by that notion? Did you think he slept in a coffin?_

_ You have to admit, it's a possibility, _Harry replied with a slightly apologetic smile, as if he thought perhaps he had gone too far.

_I will admit I cannot confirm or deny the presence of a coffin in his room. The last time I tried to go in his room, the doorknob bit me._

Harry choked on his laughter again. Binns dismissed the class at that moment, giving them a long essay for homework. Hermione glared at Ron and Harry, coldly informing them that she expected her notes would help her a great deal with the essay and that she sincerely hoped _some_ people would not expect to use her notes.

"Oh, Hermione," Ron yawned, "Don't be like that. You're more focused and driven than us. We're just not as smart as you. Is it nice to rub it in?"

Jas laughed silently at their antics and shook Millie awake. "Time to continue your nap elsewhere," she announced.

"Wha-?" Millie groaned.

As Jas dragged Millie out of the History of Magic classroom, strangely enough, she felt a small pang of regret that her and Harry's conversation had ended.

* * *

"Millie," Jas moaned the next day in the library, "It's worse than I thought."

"What?" Millie mumbled absently frowning at her Muggle Studies text.

Jas was staring in horror at a book that, as far as anyone else could tell, was about knitting patterns. She glanced around to check for potential eavesdroppers and lowered her voice. "He can go through memories! Memories, Millie! I don't even have to be thinking about them!"

Mille looked up at Jas, horrified. "Can you tell when he does it?" she whispered.

"No, it says an accomplished Legilmens can easily do it without the target noticing, although eye contact is usually necessary for the Legilmens to go through memories. Also, a spell can be used to make the process of going through memories faster, although the target almost always notices if the Legilmens does that."

"Wow," Millie muttered. "What can he tell without eye contact and a spell?"

"Without eye contact and a spell, an accomplished Legilmens can get a feeling for a person's emotional state or some sort of rubbish. It says the most talented Legilmens can almost always tell if a person is lying in their presence, whether they look them in the eye or not." Jas groaned. "He can do that, too. Great. Not only is he a mind reader, he's bloody _good_ at it."

"How does he read minds? With eye contact?"

"Well, it says Legilmency isn't mind reading, actually. It's more like interpretation than reading. The difference between reading a textbook and reading poetry, the author says. Like the Legilmens gathers information from a person's mind: their emotional state, their memories, maybe a spare image or two floating around in their head. From that, they can speculate on their thoughts."

"That's just disturbing. Is there a way to stop it?" Millie asked, rubbing her head absently.

"Yes, it's called Occlumency. But I didn't get a damn book on Occlumency," Jas grumbled, "And this book is all about Legilmency, though it mentions techniques used in Occlumency often enough. Obviously most people learn Occlumency before they use Legilmency."

"Not _another_ trip to the Restricted Section," Millie groaned.

Jas grinned. "Oh, yes. Don't worry; it won't be any time soon. I want to return these other books when I go back."

"Yes, by all means, let's consolidate trips," Millie muttered.

"I _have_ to find out how to keep him out of my mind," Jas insisted. "I'm going to be around him twenty-four-seven until I come of age! Do you know how difficult it's going to make my life if he knows everything I'm doing?"

"Jas, I've grown up around wizards and witches. My family is very academic. And I've _never_ heard of Occlumency or Legilmency. What if it's dark magic or a rare skill or just incredibly difficult to learn?" Millie's tone betrayed her doubt.

Jas sighed. "It can't be that dark of magic, or I doubt Hogwarts would have books about it, even in the Restricted Section. As for being a rare skill, with any luck, it's hereditary. As far as being really hard to learn- what do you think, I'm an idiot?"

Millie eyed her dubiously. "No, but everyone knows Snape is really smart; too smart to be a professor, really. That's why-" suddenly she stopped, obviously self-conscious. "I'm just saying, you might have to just get used to the idea of him being able to know what you're up to."

"That's why what?" Jas demanded, not missing a beat.

It was Millie's turn to sigh. "I will not repeat stupid rumors," she said primly, "Especially since you will definitely confront him about them and he will be able to see where you heard said rumors."

"Millie," Jas growled. "Don't make me use my Legilmency book on."

Millie snorted. "As if you could do anything," she retorted. "You've barely started reading it."

"I was talking about hitting you with it, but trying to Legilmize you wouldn't be a bad idea either."

Milled rolled her eyes. "Fine, but don't get mad at _me._ It's just-" Millie paused, considering her words. "You know that You-Know-Who was in power all those years ago in Britain. That he had quite a few followers, with more people joining him every day. I'm sure you've heard that his followers were called Death Eaters." Millie stopped again, looking uncomfortable. "Jas, are you sure-" she began.

"Yes," Jas said tightly, a feeling of dread creeping over her, "Carry on."

Millie frowned and twirled a stray lock of hair around her finger. "When I first came here, the older kids would tell us that Snape used to be a Death Eater and that if you got detention with him, he'd make you write out five hundred ways to torture a Muggle, or something ridiculous like that. You know, stories older kids tell because they think they're funny. Anyway, at Christmas one year, I mentioned it to my aunt- she'd had a few too many night caps at that point, mind you- and she told me about how Snape had been on trial for being a Death Eater after You-Know-Who fell. She used to be a journalist, see. She said Dumbledore stuck up for him and said that Snape had been a spy for Dumbledore from the beginning, so Snape wasn't sent to Azkaban. She said he's been a Potions Professor here ever since then."

Jas sat there, numb. After several moments of silence, she croaked, "When exactly were you planning on telling me this?"

"Oh, Jas. This is why I didn't want to tell you- who knows what the truth is. I was hoping he'd tell you himself, but that obviously isn't going to happen. I just didn't want someone like Malfoy to throw it in your face one day and then you'd wind up dueling again," Millie sighed, looking down at her book. "Besides, it's not so bad, is it? Dumbledore stood up for him, so he must not be a real Death Eater. And if he _was_ a spy, then that means he was really, really brave."

Jas' eyes narrowed. Millie wasn't looking at her. "What aren't you telling me?" she demanded.

"Noth-" Millie began.

"Don't lie!" Jas cried out, angry. "Everyone else knows more about him than I do! Tell me what everyone _really_ thinks," she demanded harshly.

Millie stared at her for a moment. Then she sighed. "No one believes that he was really a spy," she said slowly. "Or, at least, not for Dumbledore. They reckon he was a spy _on_ Dumbledore, since Snape had been rumored to be a Death Eater before he started working at Hogwarts. Dumbledore is the only person You-Know-Who ever really feared, so it makes sense that You-Know-Who would want someone to spy on him."

Jas stared at her friend. "So Dumbledore thought SF was spying on Voldemort and Voldemort thought SF was spying on Dumbledore?"

Millie winced at the sound of Voldemort's name, but shrugged. "More or less, I guess," she agreed. "But don't worry about it, Jas. It all happened so long ago, most people have forgotten about it. And even if they haven't forgotten, they don't think about it. No one really wants to remember those times."

"Don't worry about it?" Jas repeated. "I've just found out the man entrusted with my care was definitely a former Death Eater and possibly loyal to Voldemort and you tell me '_don't worry about it!_'" Jas nearly shrieked the last part.

"Jas, calm down," Millie hissed. "Look, you can ask him about it-"

"It won't _matter_. He can lie quite well, I expect. Obviously, he was lying successfully to either Voldemort or Dumbledore, so I doubt he'd have any trouble lying to me!" Jas said, her voice continuing to rise.

"Jas, _please,"_ Millie begged, looking around. "People don't like hearing his name…"

"I don't _care_," Jas snapped, angrily shoving her books in her bag.

"Where are you going?" Millie asked, worried.

"Somewhere to think," Jas replied shortly. "Don't follow me, I'll be fine."

* * *

Jas had discovered the Astronomy tower was an excellent place to brood. It was always deserted during the daytime and almost always deserted at nighttime, after classes were over, at any rate. One could stare over the edge of the tower's walls with ease; the walls were short to allow for easy stargazing.

She found it difficult to wrap her mind around this newest piece of information that apparently everyone already knew. How could students walk around so calmly; knowing that their professor used to be a Death Eater? But, Jas reasoned, none of them _really_ knew it. Even Millie had her doubts and she had heard it from someone who had supposedly witnessed Snape's trial. All they had was rumors and a surly Potions Professor's reputation to feed the flames.

And Millie was right about one thing, at least: no one seemed willing to discuss Voldemort or the past. Everyone was content with the way things were; with the peaceful state of the wizarding world. No one wanted to revisit those trying times of war. Jas laughed bitterly to herself. She had always longed for her real parents. Now she had one of her parents, at long last, and not only was he surly, uncaring and indifferent, he was an ex-Death Eater.

She had never better understood the platitude 'Be careful what you wish for.'

What did this knowledge change? Arguably, it only changed her. Dumbledore knew about it. Most of the student body had some knowledge of it. SF obviously knew about it, although she supposed he might not be pleased that she knew. She doubted he had intended to keep it from her though; how could he? He must have known she would eventually find out. That thought made her angry. He would rather she found out from a stranger than bothering to tell her himself? What sort of father _was _he?

The Death Eater sort, I expect, she thought, feeling entirely sorry for herself.

Her anger fueled her into action. She would find out once and for all it he was truly a Death Eater- they were all branded, after all. She would just need a short trip to the library to discover how to reveal his branding.


End file.
